Part Two--Wheels Within Wheels
by Bfd1235813
Summary: Continues the story of Harry and Daphne begun in Wheels Within Wheels. Harry and Daphne's relationship evolves from their early, tentative encounters, their careers develop, and Daphne shows herself to be a perceptive and capable guide and advisor to the still-impetuous wizard.
1. Chapter 1

_Acknowledgement: This continues the story of Harry and Daphne begun in Wheels Within Wheels. The author makes no claim to anything, as all characters and venues derive from JK Rowling's work. Thank-you, Ms. Rowling, for creating the wondrous Potterverse for all of us to enjoy._

 _The first twenty chapters (Part One) were posted at one time. Part Two is taking longer, so I've decided to post the completed chapters, just to maintain some momentum._

 _Rated M, because the characters are adults, they fall in love, hug and kiss, get engaged, get married and so on. The fun is in developing the characters, not writing a biology textbook, so you won't find anything explicit here._

 _Best to all the Harry and Daphne fans out there. Respectfully, Bfd1235813_

Wheels Within Wheels – Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter One

Daphne Shares Some Recent Harry-and-Daphne News

Harry Potter looked down the slope below Greengrass Manor, across the gardens, the delightful punctuation of the gazebo, and the border at the bottom, just before the edge of the green, which had lost all tint and appeared in the November dusk as an immense, flat, black lozenge.

"Ladies," he began, or tried to.

"Harry Potter, you git," said Daphne Greengrass, his not-quite-formally-promised significant other.

"We already know what you're going to say, knave," said Astoria Greengrass.

"You want to leave us here, helpless, before all manner of predation, so you can get up and go to that job of yours tomorrow," continued Daphne.

"Well, you have a job," Harry said. "Are you going to work tomorrow?"

"That is so hurtful. Keep it up and you'll damage our feelings," said Astoria. "We know lots of witches in common, Harry, and they would not like to know you were trampling on our sensitivities. You might want to give that some more thought."

"Greengrass Manor has lots of protection," said Harry. "That's well-known, One, and you are both qualified witches with wands, and a very noisy Bichon for an alarm system, Two, and I do have two very full days ahead of me so I can be good and ready for the St. Mungo's Ball, Three. I've got a dress robe to pick up from Madame Malkin tomorrow, in addition to a full work day. Blaise wants to go to lunch before Saturday, that will take a chunk out of at least one day.

"Besides, I don't have any clean clothes here. We established that earlier."

"Harry, you know as well as I do, if you drop your clothes by your door tonight, the elves will have them washed, dried, ironed and folded in your room before you wake up," said Daphne. "If you want to go, you're going to go. Just know that we are on to you, and you have no legitimate excuses."

"I'll make it up to you," said Harry. "I promise to ask you to dance with me at the ball."

"Now, I overheard you plotting and conniving with Walburga, and I meant to tell you to bring over anything you want to leave at Grimmauld Place. Give it to Kreacher and tell him where you want it. I strongly suspect Walburga has reassigned him to you now, anyway. Give him a chance to show off a bit. It really means a lot to him.

"Astoria, I enjoyed our conversation, short as it was. I am at your service, if there is anything official or unofficial you need from me.

"Nobody get up, I know the way. Set your wards. I'll be at the flat, then in the office all day tomorrow, Merlin willing."

Harry left the sunny room that opened onto the patio. Daphne and Astoria listened for the closing of the front door, then, a short time later, the faint 'Pop' that told them Harry had disapparated and was back in London.

"Daphne, you are something else," said Astoria. "What were you and Harry Potter doing in that bathtub when I came home?"

"Harry was chilly. We'd been swimming in the lake, so, it seemed like a reasonable thing to do, to warm him up. It was working, too, just for your future reference," Daphne said. "That is a sound, proven medical technique, I can say without any equivocation."

"Well, then, you two have talked about where you stand, what you're doing, that sort of thing?" Astoria demanded.

"You want to know the gist of a very private conversation between two fairly mature adults, is that it?" Daphne asked. "Okay. Sure. We talked."

"AND?" Astoria provided the conjunction, with emphasis.

"And Harry said, 'We're official, and we're serious,' and I said, 'It seems so.' I don't think there could be any more of it that you need to know. I'm dating Harry Potter."

"Well Daphne, for Morgan's sake, you've got to tell me all the details, otherwise, you force me to pry them out of you. You went swimming? He didn't bring swimming trunks over for a lunch date in November, did he? You guys went natural, didn't you?"

"Astoria," Daphne sighed, "If that were any concern of yours, I'd of course tell you, but you know how Healers are, we can't discuss our interactions with others, and law enforcement has its own ethical standards."

"So that's a yes, my big sister _did_ bring her muscular auror boyfriend over to our house when she thought no one was going to be home, and she took him skinny dipping in our lake," Astoria surmised. "You were blocking my view just a bit, but what I could see looked yummy. It didn't stop there, did it? You took him in that bower you've been working on forever. How did that go? Did you bewitch him, in your bower, you witch? Don't even bother, Daphne, I know you did. No wonder you both needed a hot bath afterwards.

"Daphne, I am so happy for you. I wish you and Potter eternal happiness together. You two are so special, Draco and I are going to have such fun watching you up close. Has he asked you to marry him yet?"

"NO. Darn it, Astoria. There are SOME boundaries. Give us some time for the waypoints, will you? Besides, you and Draco are too far ahead of us. You're the star now, and I'll be using all my spare time to help you and Mother with the stuff you'll be doing for the next few months. I'm not exhausting myself trying to juggle this party for you, and that party for me.

"Harry and I can be a big help. Besides, it will be a good learning experience for him, if we do decide to get married. The poor thing has absolutely no training, other than being Ron Weasley's best man. This will let him ease into some understanding of my expectations."

Astoria started laughing, not too noisily, then lost her composure completely when Daphne joined in.

The Greengrass sisters sat in their chairs, looking down across the gardens, to the green below, thinking their own thoughts.

"Is he trainable, do you think?" Astoria asked. "He is a kind of feral wizard, isn't he?"

"He is, in a way," Daphne laughed. "He's not like Father, or Draco, or Bill Weasley, full of authorized version received knowledge. He's not humble, but he's not full of himself, either. When I ask him, he'll tell me things he's done, things that will be legendary five hundred years from now, otherwise he keeps his mouth shut about it all. He likes his job, friends, and doing things for people. He doesn't have a good grasp of how the magical world sees him."

"Draco says he can be Minister someday, if he wants it," Astoria offered.

"I'd say that is a possibility, although not a sure thing," said Daphne. "We just touched on perceptions in casual conversation. Harry didn't see how his personal qualities, combined with the personalities in his circle, could be interpreted as a political phenomenon.

"After Saturday night, his net will encompass the Greengrass-Davis camp, along with the group everyone thinks of. There are bound to be one or two egos who will see Harry Potter emerging as an obstacle to their ambitions. We'll all have to be aware, and on guard. That includes you, and Draco. I'm sorry if we're dragging you into something you don't want to be part of."

"Daphne," Astoria said, "do you think Mother Kendra meant for us to have a choice? You're much more naïve than I thought."

"Mother Kendra," Daphne mused. "At least we have her here. If we can't steer, we still get to look over her shoulder. Now, Lily Evans? She finished her project."

"Wound it up, waved her wand, set it off," Astoria said.

"I'll try to keep you back a safe distance from her feral wizard, when possible," Daphne continued.

"No place is safe," Astoria sighed. "Harry has shown us all it is safer, relatively speaking, on his side, than it is on the other. Besides, I'm with you, wherever you go."

A faint, squeaky voice sounded outside.

"Lord Greengrass, Lady Greengrass, WEL-come home. Miss Daphne and Miss Astoria are inside, I believe in the sunny room by the patio. I hope you have a pleasant evening!"

"Daphne, Astoria, we're home," Kendra Greengrass called from the foyer.

Raffles, Daphne's Bichon, ran out barking from the library. Fabio Greengrass stepped carefully around Raffles, whose spins and arabesques were highly unpredictable, making him a permanent tripping hazard for anyone wishing to walk through any Raffles-occupied area.

Astoria got up and walked out into the hall.

"Hullo, Mother, hullo, Father. Daphne and I are out here," she said.

Kendra and Fabio walked into the room, and Daphne and Astoria kissed Kendra on the cheek.

"Someone's been having cheesecake, and they've left some for me," Fabio said, enthusiastically. He walked to the table that held the cheesecake.

"You just missed Harry, Father. He thinks you're a magical landscaping genius," Daphne said.

"I like Harry better every day," Fabio said. "He ought not to be such a stranger around here. Mmm…the elves have outdone themselves. Kendra, is it too late for me to have a little coffee with this?"

Kendra, Daphne, and Astoria looked at each other.

"A small one shouldn't keep you up, but if you indulge in the cheesecake, you'll have to resolve to walk an extra mile or two tomorrow or Daphne will be a pest," Kendra said.

"Mother, Father, I'm exhausted, so I'll see everyone tomorrow," said Astoria. "Mother, I've got a whole bag of stationery samples from Seamus and Dean's. Steel yourself."

"Astoria, I don't need to do any such thing. I've been looking forward to this since you were a baby. We'll make a morning of it, if that is what it takes," Kendra admonished her. "Sleep tight."

"Ahh…that hit the spot. Thanks for saving a little. Did Harry have a good time?" Fabio asked.

Daphne looked at Kendra.

"Oh, I think he did," she said, smiling.

Kendra looked away, determinedly looking anywhere except directly at Daphne.

"Great. I'm really looking forward to Saturday night. Kendra, you and I are triple-dating with the beautiful Greengrass sisters," Fabio said.

"Who would have thought?" Kendra mused.

"I have some reading to do," Fabio said, "so I'm going to leave you two. See you upstairs."

"I had a lovely time, Fabio, thanks for making it a date for us. Narcissa was surprisingly gracious," Kendra said. "I'll be up soon."

Once they were alone, Kendra stood, and asked, "Is there a little more coffee in that carafe? I feel like it might be nice to have something to sip on."

"Let's see," Daphne said. "Looks like there is, maybe two small ones. Trix, could we have two small coffee cups out here?"

The elf apparated into the sunny room, bringing two small cups. Daphne emptied the carafe, handing her mother one of the cups.

"Want to go to the library?" Daphne asked. "Might as well be cozy."

"Of course, dear," Kendra said.

Kendra and Daphne sat down on a pair of the leather armchairs in front of the fireplace.

"How was lunch?" Kendra asked, with a little smile.

"I'm going to cut out the unnecessary bits," Daphne said, "because I know you really want to get to the goodies. When Harry arrived, with that box there, I was sitting in here. He seemed to want to chat, about serious things, but he has this infuriatingly indirect way of getting to it, like telling me he isn't seeing anyone else, and he'd like to keep seeing me.

"I took him in hand and we went upstairs and I showed him his room, and how it connected with mine, and kind of firmly advised him it was material evidence he was welcome to the Greengrass family, if he was interested.

"So, Harry and I are dating. I expect tongues will wag, after Saturday night."

"Daphne, we're all very happy. This hasn't happened too fast, has it?" Kendra asked. "When did you begin to feel so strongly about it?"

"Not any one thing. On Sunday, he took me to his townhouse in London. You've been there. It's #12 Grimmauld Place. It was the Black family home in town. He was such a gentleman. He introduced me to Walburga Black, or to her portrait. She heaped all kinds of abuse on Harry, for being a half-blood. Then he advised her he hoped I'd be spending a lot of time there, and he wanted us to be comfortable with each other. Then he left me alone with the portrait.

"She changed into this gracious _grande dame_ and told me she hoped we'd see more of each other, and Harry was the future of the Blacks, and if the two of us couldn't fix things, no one could. She sends her regards, specifically to 'lovely Kendra' so if you want to enlighten me about that, feel free.

"Harry even let me pick out a room of my own, a perfect little study on the ground floor. That all had an effect on me.

"Then he showed up today with that chest. We'd made a little bet on something silly, and he lost. He went to the trouble of picking out that chest, to put my winnings in, and brought it with him. Look."

Daphne picked up the chest, laid her hand on the lid, and listened for the click. She removed her hand and let the lid rise, revealing the one hundred galleons inside.

"He didn't have to do that. He could have handed me a bunch of galleons in a drawstring bag, but he took the opportunity to give me something special. Then he started that roundabout route to how he wanted to keep seeing me, and wasn't involved with anyone else. I decided somebody had to be the one who got to the point."

Kendra started to laugh.

"You're so efficient, Daphne. There's more than a hint of frustration in your voice. It sounds to me like Harry was being very sweet. When he puts out a little romantic shoot, don't be over-quick to pinch it off. You'll condition him to be sour.

"What else did you learn from Walburga?"

"Oddly enough, Mother, I was hoping you could tell me about Walburga.

"When we got there, Kreacher, the house elf, said he remembered you and Father coming to call, years ago. Then Harry asked Kreacher if then would be a good time for me to meet Madame Black, and Kreacher said Madame Black had requested we meet, whenever I came to #12.

"Kreacher took the drape off her portrait, and Madame insulted Harry, then Harry presented me to the portrait, and she insulted him again…"

"Pardon me, dear, do you recall exactly what Harry said?" Kendra asked.

"He said, I was Daphne Alexandra Greengrass, and I was your daughter, and he hoped I would be at #12 Grimmauld Place often, and he wanted us to be comfortable together. She accused him of defiling me, of all things."

"What did you do, dear? Do you remember what you said?" asked Kendra.

"I did my best curtsy, looked down, told her it was an honor, and that she is a legend among my Slytherin sisters."

"Oh, that is lovely, Daphne," Kendra said with a smile. "You couldn't have done better. Walburga was a very old-time pureblood witch. Her ideas didn't evolve much, nor her language. In her day, Slytherin was a private club for purebloods, very hidebound and prickly, more than a bit Dark. How did you come up with the part about the Slytherin legend, if I may ask?"

"Tracey was always talking about her," Daphne said. "It was just a little pleasantry that occurred to me right there. She went on to tell me about the lovely little study off the hall, and suggested I take it as a place to work. Then Walburga asked for Kreacher, and she told him he was to treat me the same as her. Kreacher seemed fine with that."

Kendra looked at Daphne, not saying anything for some time. When she finally spoke, she said,

"Walburga Black presided over magical society in Britain for a good part of the last century. She was an accomplished witch, but so were a lot of others. She was respected for her skills. On top of that, though, she was a Black, eventually very senior among all the Ancients and Nobles, and she possessed that formidable personality. She had two notable flaws. She was blindly prejudiced in favor of purebloods, to the point she could never appreciate Lily or other non-purebloods, and she was very hard on her family. Sirius, and Regulus, both, were lost to her as a direct result. Eventually, she recognized the part she'd played, but by then it was too late.

"Walburga was very helpful to some of us near the end of her life. I think she wanted to make some start toward making amends, maybe pass some wisdom along to some younger people, with her two fine young wizards gone, and needlessly so.

"At any rate, Daphne, I am very, very proud of you. If Walburga's portrait gave you the tip about her study, and personally commended you to Kreacher, you are, effectively, her successor. Take that very seriously.

"Let it emerge, over time, into witches' consciousness that you are the mistress of #12 Grimmauld Place, and you receive your callers in that study. You'll be occupying a position among London witches. You already do, of course, but you're going to be a big deal. I think you'll wear it well. Astoria keeps us from developing swelled heads.

"You can help Harry out with Madame. She probably won't stop the rudeness, but if she likes you, she might mitigate it somewhat, even just to be polite around company. What is Harry's position there?"

"Harry's Lord Black. The title passed to Harry after Sirius was killed. He's Lord Potter as well," Daphne told Kendra. "The Magical Heraldry Office sent him a letter with some choices about how to handle the titles. He told me about it, and he seemed quite tickled by the quaintness of it all. I advised him to take it with appropriate seriousness, if only because there are people who do, and it can be useful. If someone hands you a tool, why not put it to good use?"

"Harry is Lord Potter AND Lord Black?" said Kendra. "That must keep Walburga in a feisty mood. Daphne, you're a natural at this, that is wisdom well beyond your years. You and Harry have had quite a week."

Kendra was silent for some time, occasionally taking a sip from her coffee.

"I think I'd like to show you something, Daphne," she said. Kendra pointed her wand at the desk along the library wall. A drawer opened and a small, leather-bound book rose from the drawer and floated to Kendra's outstretched hand. Another flick of the wand closed the desk drawer.

"You've seen this photograph, I know," Kendra said. "There's a little story behind what I'm about to tell you. Lily Evans and I met first year. I could see she was a prodigy, right from the start. To my everlasting joy, in second year, we began to study together in the section behind Madame Pince's desk. One day, I found her outside, under a tree, working on something with her hands. She had a block of wood, and some tools. She told me she'd borrowed the tools from Hagrid, and was making a block to print with.

"I asked her if she couldn't use magic, and she said of course, but why miss out on all the fun of carving? She was always full of surprises. Third year, we went to Hogsmeade together on the day we got this photograph taken."

Kendra flipped the cover, and they looked at the two thirteen-year-olds, standing in the familiar track between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, the castle in the distant background, waving mittened hands at the camera.

"Come sit here, Daphne," Kendra said, and Daphne moved to sit beside her. Kendra held the photograph out before them. The two girls in the photo looked out and grinned from ear to ear. Lily held her hands up before her, making a heart shape, and mouthed, "I love you."

The Kendra in the photo followed her lead, making a heart with her hands, saying something that might have been, "I love you too."

"Sometimes, I don't know just how, I get some insight into what they're thinking," Kendra said. She smiled at Daphne's confused expression.

"Let's see if there is anything today," Kendra said, carefully pulling the photo from the album, turning it over, and holding it on the edge with her finger tips.

Daphne saw some handwriting on the back, and what looked like a stamp.

Together they read the handwriting, which said, "Daphne, please take good care of him and love him lots for me. Always, Lily."

Below the signature was the stamp. Daphne saw it was in runes, which weren't her strongest subject at Hogwarts, and which she hadn't worked with in years.

"See what it says?" asked Kendra.

"Isn't that 'WITCH?'" Daphne asked.

"Very good, you're still our scholar," said Kendra. "Lily used to put that stamp under her name on all her parchments she turned in for homework. 'Lily Evans—WITCH' Some of the professors, like Madame Sprout, loved it, others were more ambivalent."

"And, Mother, you said you don't know how that works? _Take good care of him, and love him lots for me_ ; That's a new message?"

"It is definitely a new message, and, no, dear, I've no idea how it works. Lily is still full of surprises. I suspect it is a tiny bit of sentience or intelligence that is in the photo, just enough to react to events when the girls look out. How the third-year Lily in the photo would recognize you, and how the messages are composed, and how they appear, that is a mystery. Transcendently beautiful magic, that's all I can tell you. Now, I have something for you. I don't have a chest to put it in, unlike Harry's galleons."

Kendra waved her wand at the desk once more, opening a drawer. With a second flick, a small block of wood rose from the drawer and floated over. Kendra caught it and held it out to Daphne.

"This," she said, "is the wood block Lily was carving, second year, with Hagrid's tools. This is the block that put that stamp on the photo. Silly as it may seem, to me, there will always be a little bit of Lily in this wood block. I'd like you to have it. Maybe someday you'll have a little witch you can pass it along to. Lily would like that, I think."

"Oh, Mother," Daphne said. She turned to Kendra and wrapped her in her arms. "I'll never stop learning from you. I could live a thousand years and you'd still be teaching me."

"Well, Daphne, it's what parents do, isn't it?" Kendra almost cooed to her daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Wheels Within Wheels – Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Two

Blaise Takes Harry to Lunch

Harry got back to his flat to find an owl lounging on his window sill. The owl was sitting next to the remains of what looked to Harry to be a recently-deceased mouse. The owl was not the least perturbed, which Harry interpreted as being a sign that the owl was just as happy to have the luxury of a leisurely dinner as it would have been to deliver its letter and fly back to its perch.

Harry opened the casement window and let the owl fly into the apartment, where it perched on the back of a dining chair and waited patiently while Harry fetched a piece of jerky, and untied the letter attached to its leg. Exchange made, the owl returned to the window sill, stepped out onto the ledge beneath the window, and launched itself into the night. Harry drew his wand and leaned out the open window to get an angle on the mouse remains, and cast " _Turgio_ " at the window sill. Housework complete, he closed the window and picked up the envelope the owl had brought.

"Dear Harry," read the note from the envelope. "Could you make time for lunch on Thursday? I'll be seeing the Minister from 11 to 11:15. If you don't mind going early and can fit me in, I'd like to leave right after the Minister is done with me. Regards, Blaise"

Harry tried to remember what his schedule was like Thursday. He couldn't remember having anything that would conflict with Blaise' request, but his assistant would be the authoritative source for answering that. Harry decided against replying until he could confer with his assistant in the morning.

Harry was exhausted after his afternoon with Daphne. He couldn't stop thinking about their conversation in the library, which had ended upstairs with their mutual agreement that they were seeing each other, exclusively, and seriously. Every time he thought of Daphne's response, "It seems we are," his heart fluttered. Harry wasn't the kind of person whose heart fluttered, as a rule. He had come up in a hard apprenticeship, adept at several forms of magical and non-magical combat skills, auror, then Head Auror, Harry's heart was good at being strong and steady, not fluttering. Still, it was a new and pleasant sensation, and he wouldn't mind a bit if it kept up.

Harry got up Thursday morning looking forward to getting to his desk. He was concerned about what had come in Wednesday afternoon. Anything of an emergency nature would have brought an owl, summoning him back to the ministry. Even so, there were open cases that the aurors would have been working on. New information could have come in that would move those toward closure. New case files could be waiting for his review.

Then there was the problem with time. What was going on with the pesky experimenter from 1918? Who was it, where were they, and what was their interest in Harry and Daphne? After the last episode on Sunday afternoon, Harry had to admit a pattern had definitely developed. He expected he'd learn more about that today, as well.

Harry arrived at the ministry early and proceeded directly to his office. One or two aurors were in the outer bullpen, scratching away with quills on parchment report forms. His assistant had had no reason to arrive before Harry, because he didn't know Harry was coming early. That meant he had twenty or thirty minutes to sit down at his desk, check his calendar, look at the in-box, and collect his thoughts before the day kicked off in earnest.

Harry opened his stationery drawer and pulled out a note card.

He picked up a quill, opened his ink bottle, and wrote,

"Blaise,

Lunch today looks good. I'll be at the Minister's outer office at 11:10, just in case.

Harry"

He picked up a small piece of note parchment and wrote, "Please send this by owl to Mr. Blaise Zabini, first thing. HP"

The morning passed quickly, as Harry had to deal with the incoming business while catching up with the previous afternoon's collection of memoranda, documents for signature, and queries about all kinds of auror-related issues.

Harry kept an eye on the clock and his desk top. At 11:05, he picked up his open files and locked them in his safe. Then, after taking a last look around for stray parchment, or anything else that he didn't want the cleaners to find, he walked out. Passing his assistant's desk, he said,

"Going outside for lunch, don't know what kind of agenda my host has. Could be a couple of hours before I get back."

"No worries, sir," said the assistant. "I can take notes."

Harry walked to the atrium and took an elevator to the Minister of Magic's floor, arriving precisely at 11:10. He told the minister's assistant he was there to meet Mr. Zabini. The assistant said, "Please come with me, Head Auror. The minister asked me to bring you in."

That took Harry by surprise. He'd thought he was coming up to meet Blaise, nothing more.

"Head Auror, come in, come in," said Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Blaise and I were talking about the time problem. Your episode on Sunday afternoon turned out to be significant, very significant. Professor James Potter, in that stream, was able to utilize your information in combination with some other data, and we've made real progress. We're on our way to solving the problem.

"How in the world did you get in touch with the professor so fast?" Kingsley asked.

"Oh, that was all Daphne," Harry said. "She cast her patronus, and told it to go find Professor James Potter at Cambridge, tell him where we were, and ask him for some time stream repair. A short time later, Blaise from that time stream gets a call from the Commissioner of Police, who's you, over there, and we all get on together and Professor Potter tells us he's set up a portal for our Daphne and me. Then the Commissioner gets back on, tells Blaise he's very happy with his handling of the situation, and promotes him to Chief Inspector, right there.

"Daphne and I came back and, then, you could say, I had some explaining to do."

Blaise and Kingsley laughed at Harry's predicament.

"Harry, did you really take Daphne time-traveling, as a surprise? That must have been special," said Kingsley.

"She can make her disappointment known, I suppose," Harry said.

That got another laugh from Kingsley and Blaise.

"Harry, I'd like it if you passed on my compliments to Daphne. She used her patronus to send a message in another time stream. Remarkable.

"Now, just one more thing and then I'll let you two go," Kingsley said. "We'll both be at the St. Mungo's Ball Saturday night. As Head Auror, you're entitled to carry a baton, I don't know if you were aware of that."

"I did know, vaguely, but I never had occasion to need one," Harry replied.

"Not surprising, they're seldom seen anymore," said Kingsley. "Occasions like the ball, when everyone is wearing starched shirts and formal robes, are pretty much the only time they come down off the wall. This one was mine," Kingsley said, taking a short black baton with a silver knob down from a plaque, where the baton had rested on two wooden pegs.

Blaise opened the door to the outer office, and Harry saw his Director and several of his most senior aurors file in.

"Harry, I'd like to present this to you, if you would do me the honor. There is one condition, that you carry it this Saturday night, and represent the Ministry, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the aurors, at the St. Mungo's Ball," Kingsley said.

"I'd be honored," Harry said, accepting the baton. The aurors started clapping, and a few whistled, as Harry turned toward them and held out the baton. Kingsley walked across his office and began shaking the aurors' hands. Several had worked for him when he had been Head Auror, so he worked his way through the group to cheeky comments and questions about when he was going to get out of this office and come back downstairs for some real work.

Harry kept an eye on the proceedings, and when he judged Kingsley had greeted everyone, announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, we've all got work to do, including, I'm sure, our former Head Auror, so…"

Once the visitors were cleared out, Harry said, "Thank you, Minister. This is completely unexpected. Of course, I'll be proud to carry it."

"Glad to have someone I really want to hand it off to, Harry," said Kingsley. "I sincerely hope you are able to do the same someday. Now, you two enjoy lunch."

Harry and Blaise left the office and caught the elevator. Harry asked if Blaise minded stopping by his office to lock up Shacklebolt's baton.

"Take it with you, Harry," Blaise said. "It doesn't hurt to be seen with something like that once in awhile. It won't be out of place where we're going."

"I meant to ask about that," Harry said. "Can the office get me in an emergency?"

"Indeed," said Blaise. "I made sure your assistant has the contact information. We can floo from here."

Blaise and Harry entered a fireplace and Blaise said, "Morgan le Fay's."

The fire made a WHOOSH and Harry found himself tottering into a large reception area. The concierge, a tall woman wearing a tail coat, stepped out from behind a large wooden desk, and greeted Blaise.

"Mr. Zabini, how nice to see you, and this is, of course…" she said, extending her hand, "our Head Auror."

"Harry Potter," Harry said, taking her hand. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame…"

"Ba," she said.

Madame Ba slipped a wand from her jacket sleeve and gave it a flick towards Blaise, then Harry.

"You're all checked in, gentlemen. Enjoy your lunch. The waiter will have a list of tempting lunch specials, but I, personally, would recommend the mixed green salad with croutons and goat cheese. I went to the kitchen and tried the lot just a few minutes ago, and those must be some very happy goats."

"Thank you, Madame Ba, we'll remember that," said Blaise.

Blaise led the way into the dining room, and Harry could see for the first time that they were well up in a very tall building. The room was windows from floor to ceiling, with spectacular views of London in every direction. Blaise stopped and asked, "Anyplace you like better than the others?"

"Doesn't look like we can have a bad view, wherever we sit," Harry answered. "Wherever you like is fine."

Blaise crossed to a table and waited while a waiter pulled out chairs and seated him and Harry.

"Okay, let's start with the obvious," Harry said. "Where are we?"

"Morgan le Fay's," said Blaise, "but that's just the name for the members. It's a private club. When a name has to appear, in, say, a license or application or something official, it's The Magic Club. It looks like any other club in London, although it's a bit obscure. There aren't any mentions of it in any directory, if you can imagine that. It's all witches and wizards. There's a membership committee, but you could say everyone gets in. You and Daphne are welcome to join.

"I was one of the organizers. It was right after the army, and I had time on my hands. I bumped into Oliver Wood and we got to talking about getting something going so we could get lunch someplace. The Leaky Cauldron can be impossible. Hannah took pity on me one day and fed me in the kitchen, apologizing all the time, because there wasn't a place out front. This just kind of grew out of that chance meeting with Wood."

"I know what you mean," Harry said. "Everyone's so happy at Hannah and Neville's success, but they do need some more space. Where are we exactly?"

"Newer building, not far from the Thames. We're not _exactly_ in the building, as such, you could say. Kind of a magical addition. You can come by floo, or there is an apparation point on a small balcony over there."

The waiter arrived and greeted them, "Mr. Zabini, Head Auror Potter…" He gave Harry's baton a glance.

There were four lunch items, one meat, one fish, one quiche, and the salad with croutons and goat cheese. Harry and Blaise both ordered the salad, on Madame Ba's recommendation.

"Expect you'll be eating lots of salads, with your own personal healer watching your diet," Blaise said.

"Duly noted, as was your order," Harry said.

"Weight," said Blaise. "Got to fight it all the time, on account of the leg. I can run a little, but not like before. Bicycling is easier, swimming is best."

"What else do you do, besides work and swim?" Harry asked.

"Work has its ups and downs. Right now things are pretty intense, as you've seen. When things are more normal, I've a regular consulting business. We do studies for clients, write them up, do a presentation, present our invoice. We have an area of specialization, or expertise, based on my varied experiences. You'd be a prime target for recruitment, if I you weren't already gainfully employed."

"How about you?" Blaise asked.

"Been busy being Head Auror. I haven't really resolved being both Head Auror and Daphne's companion, and this time business has stirred things up. Not knowing who's behind it and what their intentions are is very unsettling. The hard part is not knowing what the experimenter wants.

"Other than Daphne, and being an auror, I've traveled a bit, hung out at the Leaky Cauldron, followed Chelsea, accepted all of Molly Weasley's invitations to big, Weasley dinners, and tried to improve my magic. I haven't really gone beyond that."

Harry paused between bites of salad.

"Maybe it is time I started thinking about the future a little harder."

Blaise laughed.

"Lots of people land there, Harry," Blaise said. "Before I was injured, I was thinking I'd be an infantry officer until I retired, then do a small magical business or some magical security work. Take time for a visit to a beach or two. Maybe find a way to combine all of those. You see how that turned out.

"For me, being forced to change direction was a good thing. I had to think for the first time in several years, what did I want to do, what _could_ I do? I had to take an inventory of my skills and think about ways to apply them to do something useful. You have the luxury to take your time about it. You have the minister's confidence."

Blaise glanced at Kingsley's baton. Harry picked it up, and looked at it.

"That's quite a standard to live up to. Kingsley is one of a kind," Harry said. He looked over at Blaise' salad plate. "Are we done? As long as we're here, can you give me a tour of your creation? I've never been anyplace exactly like this before."

"Of course," Blaise said. "How about some coffee and a little dessert of some kind? This is the dining room, pretty much takes up the whole floor."

They walked along the glass wall. Harry, who never tired of London, was close to ecstatic to see it from above. Blaise stopped here and there to direct Harry's attention to points of interest. At the end of the dining room was a circular staircase that penetrated the ceiling. Harry could see a modern chrome chandelier over the stairwell.

"Just up here," Blaise said, leading the way.

At the top of the stairs, Harry observed a lounge area that took up one-half of the floor. Contemporary stuffed arm chairs and settees were grouped around low tables, wait staff moved around the area with trays loaded with small cups, bowls of sugar cubes, and little pitchers of milk. Harry surmised the typical order was a double espresso with a small glass of water, or a pot of tea. More than one wizard had pulled an arm chair over and sat, alone, in rapt contemplation of the panoramic view, sipping occasionally from a cup of tea or coffee.

"Nice," Harry observed. Blaise stood beside Harry, looking at the activity in the lounge.

"If there is another place in London that is better for leaning back and thinking through a problem, I have yet to see it," Blaise said. "Take a look over here."

He led the way around the railing that protected the opening for the stairwell. Harry saw they were headed toward a translucent glass wall that cut across the entire floor, somewhere around the halfway point. Blaise drew his wand and waved it at the door in the glass wall. The door slid open, disappearing into a pocket in the wall, sliding back to its closed position when they crossed the threshold. The room broke with the open look of the other spaces Harry had seen. A traditional paneled room had been created in the glass skyscraper, with soft lighting, bookcases, and large leather arm chairs, some with ottomans pulled up close.

Harry looked around the room. Most of the occupants were engaged in reading something. The Daily Prophet was popular, as were a couple of muggle papers. Harry thought he recognized at least two financial journals. One or two wizards, and all the occupants were wizards, had kicked off their shoes and put their feet up on the ottomans.

"Gentlemen, I've brought a visitor, and we'll be talking quietly. I trust you won't mind," said Blaise.

Some muttering of "Highly unacceptable," mixed with "Of course not, feel free," indicated to Harry that the wizards were, as usual, a fractious bunch, not given to ready agreement on anything.

"Head Auror," said a nearby wizard, after looking up and recognizing Harry. This brought the rest of the heads around, and one by one, the wizards stood. Blaise conducted Harry around the room, making introductions. Harry knew several of the wizards, if a bit vaguely, and everyone wanted to pass a pleasantry or two, and shake his hand. The process took a few minutes, but, eventually, the meet-and-greet was done, and Blaise conducted Harry deeper into the paneled space.

"In here," he said, wanding another door. The room behind the door was set up as a conference or meeting room, with several largish round tables, with chrome legs and dark wooden tops. One table was set up with a table cloth, a flower arrangement in the middle, and two carafes and cups, saucers, milk and sugar ready. Blaise motioned Harry to take a seat.

"The general rule in the library out there is silence. Some of the older members really appreciate having a place where they can come and sit down with a tough potions book and a little mead, and lose themselves in concentration. When you stop to think about it, there aren't a lot of such places, life being what it is. This is for meetings, conferences, seminars. Members can also reserve it for things like this. Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks," Harry said, turning over a cup and placing it back down on a saucer.

"We've built in some wards, and can add more, if a higher level of security is indicated," Blaise said, pouring two coffees from one of the carafes. "We don't formally segregate by gender, but there is another lounge that the witches have more or less absconded with. Right from the start, they just took it. They give me looks if I go in there, even on club business. Once in a great while we'll see a witch in the library looking through the publications. If she finds what she's looking for, she usually takes it to the other lounge. Sometimes they even bring it back.

"Thank you for being so gracious out there, by the way. Some of those guys were around when Voldemort was a first year. They watched him come up, getting stronger and more mental and killing anyone he pleased, then getting close to destroying wizardry the first time, until baby Harry stopped him, then had to live through it all a second time. They'll bore their families for months now, telling everyone about how Harry Potter showed up at the club, with his Head Auror's baton, no less, and shook their hands.

"So, business," Blaise shifted gears. "The Minister noted the help your and Daphne's latest excursion and the info you provided has given to the effort to fix this time problem. I don't pretend to know all the math, but Robert Goldstein and the James Potter you met in France assure me the methodology is something like trigonometry, using data collected from confirmed incidents. I understand that last trip was a gold mine.

"Daphne was very important, by the way. The use of a patronus in a separate time stream was not previously known to be possible, and she cast hers and got the job done.

"You said I was married to Daphne, didn't you?" Blaise interrupted himself.

"Yes, over in the other stream, and you lived in my flat, with Daphne, and your daughter, Lily," Harry said.

"Wow. You probably already know that was every Slytherin's dream, at one time or another. In our hearts, we all knew she had things to do, and we'd have to content ourselves with saying, "Oh, yes, Healer Daphne Greengrass _was_ in my year, outstanding student, we're all very proud!"

"In any case, the Minister is very happy with your joint contribution. I won't be surprised if he mentions her in his remarks Saturday night.

"Now, the investigation continues. It still looks like we've got a tinkerer experimenting with our current time from back in 1918. France or Belgium is the most likely location. We don't want to go back to the Western Front again, unless it is clearly necessary. Nevertheless, Kingsley asked me to pitch you on saving your uniform, just in case."

"Sure," Harry said. "It's at home, my house elf spent half a day hand-cleaning it. She treated it like it was the Bayeux Tapestry. I didn't tell her you had to give me a change of clothes because I left my shoe at the bottom of a muddy pit."

"I hope we're done with that, but all we can do is wait and see. One other thing about the other time stream. Did you say I was with the Met?" Blaise asked.

"Oh, yes indeed," Harry replied. "You drew your weapon on me and everything. We managed to get back on track though. You in that time stream didn't like the fact that Daphne and I walked out of your fireplace holding hands. You didn't realize your Daphne had stepped out. When she got back the duplication was obvious, and we got started on the solution. Then my Daphne's patronus got to James Potter, who is a physicist over there, and he got in touch with Kingsley, who is Commissioner of Police, and we all got on the phone, like a bunch of muggles, and it was sorted out pretty quickly. That's when you, over there, got promoted to chief inspector. Very impressive.

"What is so fascinating about the parallel streams is the things that are the same can be exactly the same, then the things that are different are just randomly different. They don't have wizards in that one, for instance. Do you know how Sergeant James Potter described the streams? He said they're like traveling companions. They sit together on the train, but when they get where they're going, one takes off to the art museum, and the other one goes to lunch."

"It's maddening," Blaise said. "Those repair people spend full time on it. Somehow they manage to keep track of all the streams. Must be some kind of schematic behind it, a reference or map or something. I don't even know how one would set out to do a naming convention.

"That's all the hot stuff from that little project. Do you have any questions? How about questions about the club? I don't want this to seem like a pitch to sell you on membership. It can be handy to have a place like this, if you need to take someone to lunch. Members can book the restaurant or the lounge space outside for events. I'm thinking of hosting New Year's Eve in the restaurant. My guests can watch the fireworks from above."

"Great idea," said Harry. "What is the dues setup, and what does it cost to join?"

"Very astute questions, Harry," said Blaise. "It's a hundred galleons to join, and ten galleons a month. You and a guest get one lunch a month included. The rest of your meals, you pay. We settle up at the end of the month."

"Sounds like a deal," Harry said. "Consider me as having applied."

"Okay! You're in," said Blaise. "Look for your membership packet, which will be coming by owl."

Blaise led the way back through the library. The wizards pointedly kept their noses in their books and newspapers, so Harry figured they considered one interruption of their reading tolerable, but a second, not.

Blaise stopped at Madame Ba's desk long enough to ask her to send Harry a membership packet, then they stepped into a fireplace and with a WHOOSH were soon back in the Ministry of Magic atrium.

"Thanks for coming, Harry," Blaise said. "The staff wouldn't believe I knew you until I brought you in."

"I'll try not to disappoint them. Does the club bank at Gringott's? I can have the goblins handle the dues, save us both the paperwork."

"Of course, it has to be Gringott's, doesn't it?" Blaise said, laughing. "Who else can work in galleons? Just tell them you're joining the Magic Club, they'll do the rest. Remember to tell the floo 'Morgan le Fay's' and you'll go right to reception. Don't be a stranger.

"Now, I'm off to consult, so I'll be around. Send the stag, or an owl, if you need me for anything," Blaise said, stepping back into the fireplace.


	3. Chapter 3

Wheels Within Wheels – Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Three

Harry Takes Care of Some Personal Business

Harry went back to the office, and spent the afternoon getting on top of the mountain of parchment that never stopped arriving. At 4 pm, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement held a small ceremony to present two aurors with citations for outstanding performance. The event broke up at 4:45, and Harry went back to his office, mainly to lock up and check the calendar for Friday.

Harry departed about 5, taking the floo from the ministry to 'Gringott's One' and popping out into the small paneled room on the corridor between the main lobby and board room. Harry touched the paneling as Ragnak had shown him, and proceeded to the rank of teller's cages. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and advised the teller,

"I'm joining the Magic Club, and I'm told Gringott's can handle my initial fee and the monthly dues. Those are…"

"One hundred to join, and ten galleons a month, Mr. Potter," said the goblin teller. "Gringott's will be happy to handle the transactions."

The goblin made some notes on a parchment ledger sheet.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Potter?"

Harry, as always, was surprised by the goblins' ability to instantly, and accurately, handle any financial details of a magical nature.

"I need to settle up with Madame Malkin for a robe. Here's her invoice."

The goblin dipped his quill in the inkwell and wrote a few figures on his sheet of ledger parchment, then stamped the invoice and initialed the stamp.

"There you are, Mr. Potter, just take the paid invoice to Madame Malkin's, if you will. I hope you are pleased with the robe. Will there be anything more today?"

"No, that is everything," Harry said, picking up his invoice. Harry nearly walked out of Gringott's and down Diagon Alley to Madame Malkin's, but caught himself when he remembered Gringott's chairman, Ragnak, had explicitly asked that Harry come and go via the bank's special floo connection.

Harry wasn't sure if Madame Malkin had a connection to the floo network, so he returned to the small room, stepped into the fireplace, and said, "The Leaky Cauldron."

Harry kept his footing, more or less, when the floo delivered him to the main room at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry!" said Hannah Abbott. "Here for Happy Hour?"

"Can you give me a few minutes?" Harry asked. "I need to do something, just a stop at Madame Malkin's."

Harry walked out of the Leaky Cauldron and stepped through the wall into Diagon Alley. Harry had still not gotten over the thrill he had first felt when Hagrid had brought him here to get his initial wizard's clothing outfits, school robes, books and supplies for starting at Hogwarts. He had a particular fondness for Ollivander's, whence had come his holly wand, with its phoenix feather core. His wand had saved him more than once, because it was more than a match for Voldemort, when Harry's own magical powers were still too undeveloped to give him a fair chance against the Dark Lord.

Harry opened the door to Madame Malkin's, the bell announcing his arrival. Harry took a deep breath and tried to center himself, in anticipation of the expected Malkin blitz.

"Head Auror!" enthused Madame Malkin from the back of the shop. "How delightful to see you. You've come for your robe, I expect. Well, just come on back here, I have it ready for you!"

Even on the hanger, Harry could see the robe was going to be an eye-catcher. Madame Malkin made each robe to measure, and, robes being robes, fit was not really a robe issue. Instead, Madame Malkin's basic robes and dress robes differed in the trim and details she added. Madame Malkin did not encourage her customers to give excessively explicit instructions when they ordered new robes. She liked to have a description of the purpose of the robe. Most people ordered a new dress robe in anticipation of a specific event, then would wear it to a few more, until it started to exceed the individual's tolerance for wear.

Older wizards, on the other hand, often took great pride in showing up at a function in a shabby robe, then taking every opportunity to mention the robe was 30 years old, or older, and had been purchased for, or worn on, this or that significant occasion. Harry saw Madame Malkin bringing his new robe out, and began thinking it might one day be one of those aged robes.

The basic robe was black silk, but Madame Malkin had inserted two indigo velvet panels paralleling the center break. The velvet panels had gold piping toward the left and right sides of the front of the robe, and crimson piping on the sides closest to the break. The robe had a black satin lining made from strips of cloth that had been alternately reversed after cutting, then sewn back together. Harry could see that the effect, if the robe opened and showed some of the lining, would be almost iridescent, as the light played on the alternating strips. The robe also had a long hood of indigo velvet, that took off from the indigo panels at the shoulders, and hung down in back, ending in a point. The hood was lined in black satin, with crimson piping following the border between the velvet and satin.

The indigo was so close to black that it could not be distinguished from the main body of material unless the light was right. Harry could already begin to appreciate the mastery of tailoring and use of material Madame Malkin demonstrated in the design and execution of his new dress robe.

The light was not very bright in the rear of the shop. Harry didn't think that a problem, because the light was sure to be subdued at the ball, at least in the areas outside the vicinity of the podium. Therefore, he was seeing the robe in the same lighting conditions, more or less, as it would be seen Saturday night. The indigo panels did not differ widely from the main body of black silk, in the subdued lighting. The crimson and gold piping broke the velvet panels out from the black silk, but so subtly, the mind was not really aware of the change in materials. Instead, the front of the robe looked interesting, with no obvious reason for it to be so.

"It's a masterpiece, Madame Malkin," said Harry.

"You've barely seen it!" Madame Malkin protested. "Let me show you the robe before you make such a statement."

Harry laughed.

"Of course, let's look it over. I've seen enough, though, to tell you've really outdone yourself with this one. Now, what else has it got beyond that intriguing use of materials and textures?"

Madame Malkin muttered some appreciative words before stepping up onto the wooden box and holding the robe open for Harry to slip into.

Stepping down, she said, "Now, up, please," and let Harry get set.

"On your left, now, there is an inside pocket. Open up that side and look. See it there? You can use that for whatever you want, tickets, scarf, and so on. Right next to the pocket is a place for your wand. The intention is for it to secure the wand while allowing quick access. If you feel it is too deep, or needs to be deeper, or more commodious, of course you can bring the robe in and I will modify it.

"Also on the left, a little lower down, is a pouch, for coins. If you'll look inside, you'll see slots in three sizes to fit galleons, sickles, and knuts. If you use the slots, the coins won't be jingling every time you move, and it saves you the trouble of hanging a bag of coins on your belt.

"On your right, there is another inside pocket, this one with a flap that buttons closed. Next to the larger pocket with the flap is a small one sized for business or calling cards. We don't drop cards every time we turn around like the old days, but there are still occasions, especially for someone in public life, like yourself, when we need to leave a card. I'd suggest you start using the small pocket. Better to have a few cards and not need them, than need one and not have it.

"The hem of the robe is weighted. You shouldn't notice it when you're wearing the robe. The weight is to help keep the robe under control in windy conditions. As a quidditch player, I'm sure you remember robes acting like a sail. This one shouldn't do that.

"Now, length is not as extreme as robes from years past. Fashion has changed, but more than that, you advised this one's first outing will be to St. Mungo's Ball, so we can't have the Head Auror tripping on the dance floor in our robe, can we?"

"You think of everything, Madame Malkin," said Harry.

"I've outfitted more than a few St. Mungo attendees, Head Auror. Some of them have astounded me with their creativity. I try to out-think them, to the extent I can."

"Well, this is one exceptional piece of craftsmanship, Madame. And please don't get all formal on me. You made my first robes, when I was an ignorant, orphan, first year, on my way to who knew what. Surely by now, you ought to call me Harry," said Harry.

"Now, here is my paid invoice. Are you sure this is right? I am getting the bargain of the century."

"Well, Harry, I gave you the invoice, and you paid it, so I guess we have to assume I got the price right, don't we? Besides, you don't know how much it means to me to see young people standing here for school robes, then back here years later, getting outfits for balls and weddings and one thing or another. Each one is like a milestone for me, that I'm grateful to have lived long enough to see.

"Now, I'll fold that up and put it in a box, if you don't mind. Are you going home by floo? Just don't catch the carton on anything in the floo system, if you are."

Harry decided, considering the time of day, he'd stop by the Leaky Cauldron and check the specials. With any luck, there would be something filling, to make up for some of the gaps left by the abundance of salads he had been consuming.

Harry walked in the main room of the Leaky Cauldron and took a long, deep breath in through his nose. Something good was definitely cooking in the kitchen. Harry didn't see Hannah Abbott behind the bar, and Neville would still have been at Hogwarts at this time on a Thursday, so he decided to poke his head into the kitchen and see what he could learn about the dinner offerings.

A visitor unfamiliar with the magical world would have thought the kitchen of the Leaky Cauldron to be an approximation of Hell on Earth. Kitchen elves moved about heaving pots, pans, cauldrons and assorted utensils on and off of iron wood stoves, in and out of hearths, and up onto, and down from, great iron hooks that themselves hung from rough iron straps attached to ancient wooden beams. Hundreds of years of cooking odors and wood smoke were memorialized in the overwhelming smell of the place, which also included notes of every herb and spice known to muggle and magical cuisine. Shakespeare's witches might have apprenticed in the kitchen, and would surely have found some eye of newt on the premises, with a little looking.

Hannah Abbott was standing facing the doorway, talking to an elf wearing a chef's toque that was a good deal taller than the elf herself. Harry could not see any physical reason why the hat should stay on the elf's head, so he assumed kitchen elf magic was being used to effect a balance of sorts between the need to wear the hat, and the inevitability of gravity bringing the hat down to earth.

"Harry!" Hannah greeted him. "Come on in. We're talking about plans for Saturday. We're going to use the ball as a convenient excuse to do a very small menu after lunch on Saturday so most of the kitchen can have the afternoon and evening off. I think we'll close the kitchen on Sunday and do a thorough clean-up.

"Did you get your robe?"

"I did," Harry said. "Madame Malkin is a robe genius."

"Great, can't wait to see it," Hannah said. "Did you want something to eat? Neville will be at Hogwarts until Saturday morning, if you're looking for him."

"I was thinking of asking about any specials, but now I think I'd very much like a grilled three cheese sandwich on Mad Monk bread, if you can make me one," Harry said. "I can wait until the ball to bore Neville."

"Butterbeer with that sandwich?" Hannah asked.

"I'd better do a mineral water," Harry answered.

Hannah gave him a look.

"Sounds like a chapter from _The Healer Diet_ ," she teased.

"That obvious?" Harry asked, with a sigh. "Guess it didn't take long for it to get around."

"Get out of here and find a seat, I'll be there with your sandwich in a couple of minutes," Hanna ordered, with a chuckle.

True to her word, Hannah popped out of the kitchen two minutes later, carrying a sandwich on a plate. She waved to the bar and snatched from the air the bottle of mineral water that came floating over, setting the plate with the sandwich and the bottle in front of Harry. Then she conjured a tumbler and poured it full from the bottle.

"A word?" Hannah asked.

"Of course, any time," Harry answered, reaching over and pushing a chair away from the table.

"Neville and I are thrilled about you and Daphne, Harry," Hannah began. "She is one of the true stars of our group, even if she is a Slytherin. Not everyone will see you two the way we do. People can be jealous and petty. There are still Dark Army types around who get a couple of firewhiskies in them and start talking about how the Dark Lord had some good ideas. They forget where they are, and who we are, and start up right in here. Just be on your guard. Don't forget some of us have skills and can make ourselves useful, if you need us."

Harry put his sandwich down on his plate, and wiped his fingers on his napkin.

"Is there anything in particular that you've heard, or that I should know about?" Harry asked.

"No, thank Merlin," Hannah said, "but it has been eleven years since you took on the Dark Lord. History tells us the next threat is incubating, right now. When it emerges, you'll be seen as an obstacle, unless proven otherwise. Daphne is a great healer, she is doing wonders with Neville's mum and dad. She's also a very formidable witch. The two of you, together, would be a tempting target for someone plotting a power grab. Don't you think?"

Harry leaned back against his chair. Hannah's comments were unsettling, especially considering the recent temporal tampering that gave the appearance of being focused on him, and Daphne.

"Wow," said Harry. "Hannah, tell me the truth. Do I jinx people, just by being around them?"

"No, Harry, you don't jinx anyone. You're a powerful wizard. You're not attracted to the Dark. That combination doesn't sit well with everyone. Why did Voldemort do all the things he did?"

Harry thought about it. "Lost his way. Tom Riddle could have done anything, legitimately. He said something to me once. 'There is no right or wrong. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.' Maybe nothing had meaning if he got it without stealing or killing. Anyway, that's Daphne's field of expertise."

"Plus, you were in the way," said Hannah. "He knew there wasn't a way around you and you were between him and his goal. Voldemort was going to take you out, and he wasn't concerned with anyone who got hurt as a result. The next one won't be Voldemort, he, or she, will be something different. You'll still be here, though, this time with a wise and powerful partner. If it comes to that, you and Daphne can count on us," Hannah said, patting Harry on the hand.

"Got to get back at it. See you Saturday night," said Hannah, and she headed back to the bar.

"Thanks," Harry called after her, "I think."

Harry continued working on his grilled cheese with mineral water. People came and went in the Leaky Cauldron. A few people recognized him, and nodded, or gave a small wave. Harry was nearly finished and had begun thinking about his means of getting back to his flat, given Madame Malkin's comment about getting the box that held his new robe stuck in a floo, when he looked up to see Anthony Goldstein coming in from the street. Harry stood and waved his classmate over to his table.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Anthony asked. "I haven't seen you for a year or more."

"Right here in London, mostly," Harry said. "Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Once in awhile an exciting field trip to Glasgow or Manchester. I have some best regards to pass on. Earlier this week I was doing something with Kingsley for work, and I met your Uncle Robert. He said to say hello."

Anthony's face shifted to strictly neutral from its previous great-to-see-you mode.

"What sort of work was Uncle Robert doing, when you met him?" he asked.

"Don't really know," Harry said. "Something to do with his academic discipline, whatever that is. Doubt if I have the necessary background to understand it."

"Hmmm…That _does_ sound like Uncle Robert. The family doesn't know much about his field, which is probably a good thing. He is a physicist, and has a position and a lab at Princeton, but that's clearly not all he does."

"At any rate," Harry said, "I was asked to pass along greetings, so that's that. What brings you in here?"

"Gringott's stop. There's a family business that buys from goblin mines and sells to customers that manufacture various things, all within the magical community. We take whatever the miners have to sell and absorb the overhead while we locate a customer. Very educational. Let me know if you want to learn about exotic metals."

Harry sat back in his chair, and stared at Anthony.

"Oddly enough," he began, "it just so happens that I need a crash course. Gringott's has been managing some goblin-run mining for me, through their trust department. I have a problem, though, in that the properties are doing well enough, I can't ignore them, but I don't have any background to apply to making decisions."

"Today isn't the day," Anthony said, "but I'll be happy to help. Let me take this meeting. Next week alright?"

"Perfect," Harry said, getting up and picking up the box with his new robe. "I'm glad we ran into each other."

After shaking hands with Anthony, Harry tucked the box with his robe under his arm and fished in his pocket for some sickels, caught Hannah's eye, and dropped the coins on the bar.

"Close enough?" he asked.

"Harry! Come and take some of this back," Hannah demanded.

"Apply it to the elves' morale fund," Harry said, striding to the fireplace. Grabbing some floo powder, he pulled the box in close to his body, stepped on the hearth and said, "Harry's flat."

Since the unscheduled jump from #12 Grimmauld Place to the parallel time stream, Harry had begun assessing his whereabouts whenever he apparated or used the floo. A quick look around didn't show anything obviously wrong. Harry took the box to his bedroom, laid it on his bed, and opened it.

"Lumos," he said, with a wave of his wand. Harry held up the robe to look at it again. He couldn't help thinking about wearing it to the St. Mungo's Ball, with Daphne on his arm. Harry wasn't superstitious, but he did have an aversion to over-anticipating the pleasure he expected to derive from future events. Looking at his robe, though, he saw himself in the robe, and Daphne alongside, bedazzling him and everyone else.

Consciously taking hold of himself, Harry reached into his closet for a hanger, over which he slipped the robe. He placed the hanger on the hook attached to the back of his bedroom door and stepped back to get a better view.

"Yes, indeed," Harry thought, "that is one good-looking dress robe."

Harry had no need to worry about an evening meal, so he changed into a loose track suit he liked, and went to #12 Grimmauld Place. Apparating onto the front steps, Harry walked through the opening door.

"Kreacher, how are you this afternoon?" he asked.

"Kreacher is well, Master Harry. Tea is steeping, if you would like a cup."

"Thank you, I'll take a small one, please. I'm on my way to loosen up," Harry said, heading for the kitchen. "How have things been today?"

"Very well, Master Harry," Kreacher said, handing him a cup and saucer. "Kreacher has been asked by Mistress Walburga to request a moment with you, if you are available."

"Well, that is a first," Harry said. "Any insight you can provide, without being indiscreet?"

"Only that Mistress Walburga asked, and Kreacher observed that her request came after her conversation with Miss Daphne."

Harry was long accustomed to Kreacher's conversational circumlocutions. From what Kreacher said, Harry expected Walburga wanted to probe his intentions toward Daphne, for whom she would feel a natural affinity, one pureblood Slytherin witch to another.

"Of course, Kreacher, I'm always happy to oblige Madame Black. Let's go see her now."

Taking his cup of tea and saucer with him, Harry followed Kreacher to the hall, where Walburga Black's portrait hung. Kreacher brought his wooden stool, placed it before the portrait, and climbed up. Speaking in soft tones, he said,

"Master Harry is here, Mistress, Kreacher mentioned to Master Harry that you asked that he stop to see you on his next visit."

Portrait undraped, Walburga Black peered down at Harry and Kreacher.

"Potter!" she exclaimed. Somehow, Harry thought, she couldn't say Potter without it sounding like it left a foul taste in her mouth.

"Madame," Harry said. "How can I be of service this evening?"

"However you did it, Potter, Daphne Greengrass is clearly smitten," Walburga said. "My advice, whether you want it or not, is don't mess this up. You know how the Blacks came apart. I learned, too late, one puts family first and keeps it whole, whatever the cost. You two stick together."

"Thank you, Madame," Harry said. "Your comments are most welcome. I hope Daphne sees things your way. I think she does.

"Can I inquire as to whether the portrait switch that Daphne suggested has been accomplished?" Harry asked.

"It has," Walburga said, smiling. "The dewy Walburga from the study is now on the wall across from the door to the Slytherin girls' dormitory, right around the corner from the Slytherin Common Room. Millicent Bulstrode is the new Head of House, as of the beginning of term. She stopped and read the plaque on the portrait's frame, and welcomed me back to Slytherin. Very gracious of her."

"I didn't know Millicent was back at Hogwarts," Harry said. "Is she an instructor?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Walburga. "Already being recognized for her energy and rapport with students, according to your old mentor, Dumbledore."

"The energy sounds like Millicent, but the rapport is a new development, if my memory isn't going. Well, please give her my regards," Harry said. "Now that the portrait from the study has rejoined Slytherin, may I ask something? Would you like to join Daphne in your study? She hasn't had a chance to use it yet, but she is quite taken with it."

"Trying to get me out of here and shut me up?" Walburga demanded.

"On the contrary," Harry said, "I'd like you to be comfortable. It's clear you and Daphne have clicked. I'll mention we talked, and the two of you can decide together what you want to do. In any event, the only one who knows how to take this one down is you, so if you want to stay, there's nothing I nor anyone else can do about it."

"You're miscast as a fighter. You're one of those blasted diplomats, Potter," Walburga observed. "The Blacks could have used someone like you, when it still mattered."

"We're not done yet, Madame," Harry said. "I have some ideas. Right now, though, I have to go work out. We never know when we'll be called upon to defend our house, so I have to be ready. With your permission, Madame."

Harry walked back to the kitchen carrying his cup and saucer.

"Excellent tea, Kreacher," he said. "I'm putting your cup and saucer here. Now I have to go upstairs for an hour or two. Are we ready for Saturday night?"

"Yes, Master. The master bath has towels and toiletries and is ready for use. An additional bedroom and bath have been prepared for Master Neville and Miss Hannah."

"Could you do one more bedroom and bath, just in case? Clean sheets and towels, also, the usual soap, shampoo, new toothbrushes and toothpaste, and we'd better put a pair of bathrobes up there. We never know who we might want to invite over, once we're at the ball," Harry said. "I think that room at the top of the stairs with the two beds."

"Of course, Master," Kreacher said, "it will be ready."

Harry climbed the stairs and opened the door to his dojo. Taking off his shoes and socks, he stepped through the door onto the hardwood floor, bowed, and drew his wand. Three opponent mannequins appeared. All four bowed, and the fight commenced.

Harry lasted two full hours with the mannequins, and finished his workout completely exhausted. He stopped by the kitchen and looked in, but Kreacher must have found something to keep him occupied elsewhere. Harry stepped out the front door onto the top step and disapparated, appearing almost immediately at the apparation point he always used coming and going to his flat.


	4. Chapter 4

(Author's Note-Chapter 3 was mistakenly posted as a new story. I regret any confusion, and have since corrected my error. Thank you to the reader who provided feedback on my mistake, as well as an encouraging note about the story, plot and character development.)

Wheels Within Wheels – Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Four

A Little Mother/Daughter Chat

Harry showered and looked around his cupboards for something to eat before bed. It was clear he had to do some shopping, and soon.

"Harry!" he heard. He turned toward his fireplace.

"Hello!" he answered. "Daphne?"

"Yes, can I come through?" Daphne asked.

"Daphne, you're a lifesaver. I've just got one request," Harry said. "Can you bring me a sandwich? Any kind of sandwich. Please!"

"Aaagh…Of course. Give me one minute," said Daphne.

Right on time, Daphne arrived with a brown paper bag. Harry held out his hand.

"Ah-ah-ah," Daphne said. "Get out of my way, please."

Daphne took the bag to the kitchen and placed it on a counter. She opened cabinets one after another until she found plates, selected one, put it on the counter, opened the bag, withdrew a sandwich which she placed on the plate, looked for napkins and didn't see any, instead pulling a paper towel off a roll near the sink. Daphne picked up the plate and brought it to Harry, who was standing near a small dining table in the flat's combined living and dining room.

"What do you want to drink with that?" Daphne asked.

Harry figured he might as well ask for what he really wanted, rather than make points by asking for mineral water.

"Butterbeer?" Harry suggested.

Daphne seemed on the verge of giving Harry one of her looks, but she smiled and returned to the kitchen.

"Where is it?" she called.

"Lower level cupboard, to the left of the sink," Harry answered.

Daphne returned with a brown bottle.

"Opener? Mug? Stein?"

Harry crossed to a compact cabinet opposite the dining table, opened a door and pulled out a mug, then he opened a drawer and removed a bottle opener.

"Will you join me?" Harry asked.

"Might as well, since you asked," Daphne said.

Harry bent and reached in for a second mug.

"Sandwich?"

"Cucumber, tomato, cream cheese. The bread is the same recipe as Mad Monk, from the Leaky Cauldron, but our yeast is completely different," Daphne told him.

"Umm…that is good! I suppose the tomato, cucumber and cream cheese are all very good for me, and I'll wake up starving at 4 a.m.," Harry speculated.

Daphne appraised Harry long enough for him to start becoming uncomfortable under her gaze.

"When you get me to do your shopping, Harry Potter, you eat whatever I bring you," Daphne said. "Then, without further comment, you say 'YUM!'"

"That was next!" Harry said. "How improbable is that? Now, you had a reason for coming all this way. Will you be sharing that tonight?"

"Saturday will be here soon, so, I thought we could coordinate. Where are you going to get ready, and how are you getting to St. Mungo's?"

"I thought taking everything to Grimmauld Place made the most sense. What do you think? What do you have to do?"

Daphne clearly had a checklist in her head.

"Rounds, right after breakfast, which will take about 90 minutes unless we get more admissions. I'll depart St. Mungo's by eleven. Light lunch. My gown, shoes, odds and ends all pack in a little bag, which I can bring by Grimmauld Place and leave with Kreacher. I'll have to give him the word about Trix, she'll be coming to do my hair. Hope that's okay."

"I can't imagine why it wouldn't be, but I can raise it tomorrow, if you want," Harry said. "I'll take my robe over so it's there, then probably go to the dojo and get sweaty. Anything you want me to do before Saturday afternoon? I'll make sure Kreacher has something on hand for Sunday breakfast. If Trix does your hair at #12, can we get you to the roof of St. Mungo's with everything in place?"

"Sure, Harry. Witches have had this problem for evening events for hundreds of years. We have figured out one or two things, over time. I'd like to get started early afternoon, no later than two o'clock. What does your Saturday afternoon look like?"

"I'm usually at my desk until around two. I can come earlier if you need me. I've decided not to paint my toenails, so I'll need an hour, more or less, to get ready," said Harry.

"That's good news, Harry," said Daphne, "because that means you can assist Trix in her duties."

"When's our departure time?" Harry asked.

"The doors open at seven-thirty. I want us there by seven, or a little earlier, if possible," Daphne said. "There is something I have to do in another area of the hospital, and you might as well come along with me.

"Let's talk or owl or something tomorrow," Daphne said, "in case of the unexpected. I'll be at the manor tonight, St. Mungo's until mid-afternoon tomorrow, back to the manor, then Grimmauld Place around two on Saturday."

"That works, but I'll miss you terribly," Harry said. "Wait there a sec, I just thought of something."

Harry went down the hall to his bedroom and pulled a few trousers, shirts and other bits of clothing together and stuffed them in a small gym bag.

"Some things to make my room look lived-in," Harry said, handing over the bag.

"It would have been a lot more fun if you had delivered them, but this will do to start," Daphne said, a little rue in her tone.

"Oh, another thing," Harry said. "I got some counseling this afternoon, from Madame Walburga. You may have redeemed me over there. She's very pro-Daphne. I asked about her portrait, and Kreacher has already taken it to Hogwarts and swapped it for Phineas Nigellas. She's quite happy to be there. Millicent Bulstrode introduced herself and welcomed her back. Millicent's the Slytherin Head of House, as of this year."

"You said Walburga counseled you? What was the nature of the counseling?" Daphne asked.

"I'm to do whatever it takes to keep you happy, so we stick together," Harry answered.

"Oh, Harry," Daphne said, as she stepped over to Harry and pulled him close. "That won't be hard."

Harry gripped Daphne's forearms and took a half step back.

"Can I get you to stay?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure there is at least one clean towel in the bathroom."

"You're so well-prepared, Harry, I'm going to start thinking you've been plotting this, this…seduction. I have to have fresh clothes in the morning, it's just a requirement of civilized life. Can we see how tomorrow goes? If I have an invitation, that is."

"Of course. You have a permanent invitation," Harry said.

"Remember my schedule? Owl me at the manor in the afternoon. I'll be checking in with Mother, but there's no reason I can't just come back,"

"Okay. Sigh. Missing you already," Harry said, with conviction.

Daphne blew him a kiss from the fireplace, dropped some floo powder and said, "Greengrass Manor," and with a WHOOSH, she was gone.

When she arrived at the manor, Daphne went straight to Harry's room and dumped his clothes out on the bed, then she called out for Trix.

"Trix is here, Miss Daphne," said the little elf.

"Trix, I want to stand here and look at some things. Please hang the trousers on the left, and shirts to the right."

The elf snapped her fingers and arranged the clothing as asked.

"Okay, let's try that, reversed. Trousers on the right, please."

Again the elf arranged the clothing.

"Nice," said Daphne. "He needs to improve his color choices, but luckily, I have just enough room in my time budget for another project."

"Oh, things have worked out for Miss Daphne!" Trix enthused. "Trix is happy."

"We're both happy, then, Trix," Daphne said. "Please take Master Harry's trainers off for a little scrub, and bring them back up when they're dry. Thanks for your help. I'll let you know if I think of something else."

Trix walked out into the hall and disapparated with a distinct POP.

Daphne walked over to the armoire where she'd hung Harry's clothes, and breathed in deeply, thinking she should have had the presence of mind to take some clothes for the morning with her, as long Harry had conned her into bringing him a sandwich. She wondered if she should just grab some and stuff them right into Harry's bag and take the floo straight back to his flat. Then she considered the time, and how much she needed to get done at St. Mungo's on Friday, and decided she had missed her chance, for tonight, anyway.

Daphne brushed her teeth thinking about how thrilling it was that it was no longer _her_ bathroom. She didn't know why, but as she pulled a nightgown over her head, instead of going to her bedroom, she turned and instead went into Harry's. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thing she was conscious of was the crimson and gold terry bathrobe hanging on the valet stand at the foot of the bed.

Greengrass Manor had a breakfast room, but most mornings, Daphne liked to have her coffee, toast and poached eggs in the sunny room by the patio. Some days were just too cold for the room, even with the use of warming charms. Those were few, however, and rain or shine, snow or fog, the room and its view of the gardens that tumbled down the hill, to the green at the bottom, were just the place for breakfast, in Daphne's opinion.

Daphne was sitting at the table, wearing her nightgown under the crimson and gold bathrobe when Kendra arrived.

"Good-morning, Daphne," Kendra said, "you look quite fetching today."

Daphne laughed.

"I just grabbed whatever was handy," she said, pulling the robe tighter. "If I can't get him to come over and use it, I'll keep it warm for him."

"Well, just let things develop at their own pace, Daphne, and you'll work each one out in turn. You and Harry have been alone, and you've gotten used to it. It's only natural you'd both be hesitant about disrupting the familiar and jumping into the unknown. You have good instincts. So does Harry. You'll know when it's the right time for each new step," Kendra said. "I don't mean to preach, you understand that, don't you, dear? I apologize if it came out that way."

"You know," Daphne mused, "it's funny. I've been sitting here with my professional qualifications deployed, taking little sips of coffee and staring out at the sunlight getting stronger, trying to analyze why I didn't take some overnight things with me when I went to Harry's yesterday evening. Then I could have said 'Yes,' when he asked me to stay. You just walk in the room and off-handedly give me a very good explanation, probably as good an explanation as I'm likely to get."

"Furthermore, you can't say anything to me that I won't listen to. I might disagree, occasionally. That doesn't mean your perspective isn't valuable, or that I don't treasure it. You're interested in me, and Astoria, and how our lives are working. We've known lots of people our age who don't have someone like you around. Harry, for one. I'm so grateful to have had you. Astoria is too."

Kendra sat still across the table, looking at Daphne while trying not to tear up.

"Oh, Daphne, that might be the kindest thing anyone, including your father, has ever said to me," said Kendra. "You're so right about Harry. Lily showed she would do anything for him, and he lives with that, and the twin reality of her absence. It would be heartbreaking, even if we were complete strangers. Our histories just make it hurt more."

Kendra couldn't go on. She suddenly found the low, late autumn sunlight and dramatic shadows, streaking across the beds, most compelling. She turned her head completely away from Daphne, and needed two or three deep inhalations to compose herself.

When she turned back toward Daphne, her face was flushed, her eyelids shiny, and near-overflowing with tears.

"Sorry," said Kendra, "the emotion took me by surprise. That doesn't happen very often."

"I know," Daphne said, "so, don't misunderstand, but I do have to ask, how are you feeling? Besides being your daughter, I have a professional responsibility."

Daphne pushed her plate aside, and reached across the table to take Kendra's hand.

"Mother, Harry and I aren't together because of a calculated political decision our parents made, are we?" Daphne asked, consciously using her most soothing, warm-honey tone of voice. "Do you want to tell me anything? Not as your therapist, of course. Just to relieve you of the burden you're carrying inside?"

Kendra gripped Daphne's hand harder, dabbing at her eyes with a linen napkin from the place setting before her. It took her several minutes to regain her self-control, before she finally answered.

"No. No, dear, the calculated political decision was part of it, but it wasn't the sole reason. It all started long before Lily and I became young, expecting wives, trying to look out for our precious little things. Those were some bad times, darling, desperately bad. Murder and mayhem among the wizards, trouble in Paradise.

"As you said, though, it wasn't solely a political calculation. Oh, no."

There was another long pause. Daphne held Kendra's hand, keeping her eyes on Kendra's face. Daphne focused on keeping a calm, reassuring demeanor, while inside she was in turmoil on a tectonic scale. Kendra's demonstration of emotion was so out of character, Daphne had to consider the possibility her mother was suffering a breakdown right in front of her.

The familiar Kendra gradually emerged, proud and composed, from the fragile, vulnerable Kendra who Daphne had found so alien just a short time before. Following a final dab at her eyes, she waved her wand before her face and silently cast a freshening charm.

"If I try to talk right now, I'll just fall apart again," said Kendra. "Can you spend a couple of minutes with me in the library? I mean a couple of minutes. This won't take long. Your breakfast shouldn't even get cold."

Kendra entered the library after Daphne, turned, and locked the door. Then she cast _muffliato_.

"Just in case," Kendra said. "We might want to talk."

Kendra pulled out a gold chain from under her blouse, and Daphne saw it had a small amulet or vial hanging from it. Kendra always wore the chain, so Daphne was used to seeing it, but she hadn't looked so closely at the pendant before. Kendra twisted the top of the pendant as she crossed the room to the pensieve, Daphne just behind her. She used her wand and pulled a long, gauzy thread from it, and released it over the basin.

"This is a memory of Lily's, her maid of honor gift to the bride, the day I married your father," Kendra explained.

Daphne looked at her mother, then turned her head and bent over the pensieve. Before her she saw two adolescent girls posing for a photographer on the snowy track between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. She surmised she was watching the taking of the photo in the leather album.

The girls waved their mittened hands at the camera, as Daphne heard the shutter click.

The photographer said, "Thanks, Kendra, thanks, Lily! I'll have your photos tonight after dinner."

The photographer looked somewhat familiar. Daphne wondered if he was related to someone she had known at Hogwarts.

The two girls turned and started walking back toward the castle. Daphne felt a tiny twinge of homesickness as she looked at the familiar shape, almost a silhouette in the snowy, gray, Scottish winter light.

"Well, Hogsmeade is all it's cracked up to be, isn't it?" Lily said, as if she were tabling a motion, or giving evidence.

This brought both girls a good laugh, before Kendra responded, "Yes. Yes, it goes without saying."

This brought more laughter as they walked, kicking powdery snow ahead of them. Soon they were at, roughly, the halfway point between the edge of the village and the castle.

"Kendra?" Lily said, slowing a little.

"Uh-huh?"

Lily stopped, tugging on Kendra's sleeve, and Kendra stopped as well. They looked at each other, as Lily pulled Kendra closer, laying her cheek against Kendra's.

"I love you," she whispered.

Kendra pressed her palm against Lily's back, holding it there. The only sounds were the faint 'whis-s-s' of snowflakes drifting down, and two people breathing. Some time passed, then Kendra leaned back, her eyes holding Lily's.

"I love you, too, Lily. I have for such a long time," she said.

Neither flinched, nor looked elsewhere, nor did they say anything right away.

"Good, then, that's settled. I'm yours, and you're mine," Lily said, pulling Kendra into a hug.

Kendra chuckled.

"Mmm-hmm. Always," she said.

"So, back to the library?" Lily asked, turning for Hogwarts.

"Of course!" said Kendra. "Want to cast runes?"

"Agh! Kendra, you and your runes, charm something once in awhile, just for variety," Lily said, plowing through the powder.

Daphne felt Kendra's hand pulling her back from the pensieve.

"So, there you have it. Study partners, third year, so young, we couldn't fully grasp the power of our emotions. Just like that, the feelings overflowed in both of us, and we declared our love. It was so nice. So warm and comfortable. Lily Evans could have anyone, and she loved me. By seventh year, of course, we'd gotten some understanding of what else would be expected of us. Required of us.

"We'd figured out the world would not let us go off and be a forgotten couple of witches, living out their lives together in their cottage in Cornwall, however much _we_ might want that. So, we did a little looking, and we picked out two young, respectable, gentlemen wizards who had shown they were interested in us, and whom we could love and respect. I do love your father, Daphne. He gave me this family. He is the rock under all of us. He makes me happy. Lily truly loved James, too.

"Even so, nothing could displace what had come first. Am I making any sense?"

"You are," Daphne said. "I have seen it in practice. Being in love like that…you're still in love with Lily and you will be as long as you live. Real love never goes away, nor can we will ourselves to undo it. Mother, have you had anyone to share this with? Holding powerful emotions inside…they can become volcanic."

"Well, I couldn't very well talk it out with Fabio, could I?" Kendra asked. "When Lily and James were killed, you and Harry were babies, so I had you to protect and get all squishy over, then Astoria joined us, and I just poured it all into you two. It was easy, darling. Two bubbly, smart little witches, running around the manor, learning and growing and changing every day. Life was so good, and it still is.

"Most of the time I do fine, but when the grief comes back... I never, ever meant for you to see me like that. I hope you can forgive me," Kendra finished.

"Mother, forgive what?" Daphne asked. "You and Lily were kindred spirits, and you found each other and acted on your feelings. The most beautiful gift she could think of to give you on your wedding day was her memory of the first time you told her you loved her. Lily's memory is the closest thing to your heart, and that's fine. She is still yours, Mother, you still belong to each other. I'm proud of you. I'm so proud to be your daughter, now more than ever. Why would I ever judge you? How could I?

"No wonder Harry and I are predisposed to…"

It might have been third-year Kendra who giggled at Daphne's reluctance to finish her sentence.

"Well, then, should we go back to our breakfasts, dear?" Kendra asked, smiling. "I promised you it wouldn't get cold while we were away."

Kendra and Daphne walked back to the room by the patio. Trix arrived, carrying a fresh carafe of coffee, and whisked away the one from the table.

"Would Madame like Trix to bring something for breakfast?" the little elf asked.

"Porridge, a toasted muffin, and a small bottle of mineral water, I think," Kendra said. "No butter on the muffin, I'd like _crème fraiche_ and a little orange marmalade, please."

The little elf disapparated with a 'pop.'

"Mother," Daphne said, reaching for Kendra's hand. "I'm here, when it gets hard for you. Please don't try to convince yourself you can do it alone. Okay?"

"Thank you, dear, I've always known I can count on you," Kendra replied, squeezing Daphne's hand, and reaching over with the other, to give Daphne's a pat. "Now, what is the rest of your week looking like?"

"Rounds this morning, then a couple of individual consultations, work time to write up some notes, I have to drop a bag of things for tomorrow night at Grimmauld Place, and I hope to be back here no later than three. Harry is supposed to contact me here about later. We're tentatively on for the evening, which will mean he'll want to eat, probably something substantial. I'll take what I need for morning rounds Saturday, and we'll see if I get invited to stay over, after turning him down last night."

"Saturday afternoon, we'll get ready at #12 and go from there. We'll party with Fabio and Kendra at the St. Mungo's Ball. Then some friends are coming by for a little after-party. We'll see if Walburga wants to comment on such goings-on in her realm."

"My guess is she'll appreciate having people there again, although you never know. Don't expect affirmation and you won't be disappointed," Kendra advised.

"One couple will be staying over Saturday night. Once we get breakfast accomplished, Sunday morning, we'll have to figure out the rest of the day."

Kendra said, "You can always come to the manor. We'll sleep a little later Sunday morning but you can entertain yourselves if we aren't up."

"We might take you up on that, Mother," Daphne said. "I think Harry likes it here, especially the gardens. Maybe Father could take him for a walkabout, keep them both busy for a couple of hours.

"I'd better get going," Daphne said, taking a last sip of coffee. "Rounds won't do themselves."

She walked around the table, bent down and put her arm around Kendra's shoulders.

" _You're_ my rock, Mother. I don't see that changing," she said, punctuating her comment with a kiss to Kendra's cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Five

Mind Your Manors

Harry watched the clock all Friday morning, fearful he would get involved in something compelling and work until seven or so, when he'd suddenly remember Daphne, who expected an owl from him sometime mid-afternoon.

He chaired a morning meeting of the senior aurors, which was always interesting, but this week's big agenda items concerned upticks in this or that crime statistic, hardly the sort of thing to provide rich food for thought as the day went by. Harry sprang for carry-out sandwiches from the cafeteria for his immediate office. They took an early lunch around his conference table, ate sandwiches and drank coffee or mineral water and discussed anything that anyone wanted to talk about. Harry tried to guide the conversation toward topics related to work, but didn't have a lot of success. If people wanted to talk about the Chudley Cannons or the quality of the shipment of unicorn hair that Ollivander had just received, he let it go.

The aurors had been working hard. Magical crime was steady, but it was mainly of the larceny or assault varieties. Those cases were generally closed through good interviews and attention to documentation. Harry worried about the still-unresolved time problem. It was unlike anything the Ministry had dealt with in all its history, according to the Minister. Considering the fact that he could deploy Ministry historians, not to mention the Unspeakables, with all their assets, Harry took it as authoritative the time problem was something new and previously unencountered. It also appeared little additional progress had been made in fixing whatever was messing up the time streams.

Meanwhile, life went on. It went spectacularly on in the saga of Harry and Daphne. Once over their initial hesitancy to see the relevance of a thirty-year-old marital agreement their parents had arranged, one that was, legally, well short of a binding contract, they had found they genuinely liked one another.

Both wondered why that should be, although neither had initiated a conversation on the matter. Harry had managed to go through six years of education at Hogwarts without making a single lasting memory of Daphne. Their career paths as public servants, Harry as an auror, Daphne a Healer, had not brought them into contact. Whatever was at work, Harry was resolved to leave it alone. Daphne was delightful—smart, with a wicked sense of humor, an interesting job, and, to be honest, devastating beauty.

Harry was thinking, throughout lunch, about things to do over the next few days. Friday afternoon was coming quickly. If Harry went to Greengrass Manor, or Daphne returned to Harry's flat in London, around three, there would be less than two full hours of daylight left. Harry needed to visit some inherited properties scattered around the country. There was a Potter Manor, that Gringott's goblins advised was without buildings, those having been reduced to rubble, and the rubble cleared away. There was a Black estate in Cornwall, where the Blacks had some interesting residual rights. There were also mines that he wanted to visit, but after he had had a chance to meet with his Hogwarts classmate Anthony Goldstein to get some background on goblin mineral extraction and the downstream businesses it fed.

Harry thought he could apparate to the Potter estate, with the directions the Gringott's goblins had provided, and thought that might be something that would interest Daphne. They would consume at least an hour just going to, coming from, and walking about taking a look at the place. With a little luck they'd find a magical pub in the vicinity that could come up with a decent stew and butterbeer special.

Harry thought Friday night might be a good time to try out his new membership in the Magic Club. He had enjoyed his lunch there with Blaise. That was a favorable portent for the quality of the dinner menu. Harry really looked forward to seeing the overhead views of London by night, given the spectacular daylight panorama.

Still, the Magic Club was good for two hours at most, unless they ran into some friends they really wanted to spend more time with. Harry wondered what Daphne liked to do, when she had a couple of hours at her disposal.

Lunch broke up a few minutes after one, and Harry decided he'd go ahead and send his owl. If Daphne wasn't at Greengrass Manor, she would arrive shortly. He selected a card with a monogram and an envelope with 'Harry Potter' in the upper left hand corner. Opening the card he wrote "Daphne Greengrass, Greengrass Manor" then dropped down and continued:

"Daphne, I've arranged to depart early. If you tell me when to arrive, I'll come to the manor and we can go from there. Or, if you want to come back to London, I'll meet you at the flat, or the Leaky Cauldron, or some other place of your choice.

"Dying on the vine awaiting your reply…

"Harry"

"Personal message," Harry said, handing the envelope with the card to his administrative assistant. "Make sure we don't use one of the dedicated Official Business owls. I don't want to read in the Daily Prophet that I'm abusing Ministry property."

"Understood, sir," said his assistant.

"Don't forget, I expect to be leaving a couple of hours early, anything needing a signature before Monday has to get to me soon. After I leave, the Director has agreed to take the routine stuff."

Harry was soon deep into reading, approving and signing once again. He hadn't thought he would like that aspect of being Head Auror. In fact, he had accepted the position on the understanding that he, and the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, would meet every thirty days, for the first six months, in effect to discuss "Does Harry Still Want To Be Head Auror?" As it turned out, they were able to drop the meetings after two or three sessions, because Harry enjoyed the work right from the start.

On this particular Friday, however, Harry was not having success getting completely lost in his job. Thus, it was a great relief when a miniature lynx materialized out of a tiny globe of light, right on top of an open file folder. The little, ephemeral lynx was just dense enough to stretch out toward Harry and lick him from his chin to well up his nose. Then it sat down on its haunches, flicking its tail.

"Harry," Daphne's voice said, from somewhere around the lynx, "Anytime you want to come out to the manor, come on ahead. I'll be here."

Then the lynx stood up and turned away, with one last flick of its tail, and disappeared.

Harry checked his watch. Two forty-five. He'd told his Director and his assistant that he planned to leave by three. That gave him fifteen minutes to close up the office, check with his assistant for any late-arriving, must-do tasks, and get to the Ministry's apparation point.

By some miracle, there were no impediments to Harry's leaving as he'd planned. Disapparating from London, Harry kept his hand on his wand, just in case he landed in the middle of another troublesome timestream manipulation episode. Landing a little outside the Greengrass Manor wards, Harry gave his surroundings a quick looking-over. Nothing seemed out of place, and he did not sense any magical phenomena about. None that seemed abnormal, for a magical property inhabited by multiple witches, wizards, house elves, probably some garden gnomes…

Walking down the path to the talking gate that permitted access to the lawn inside the perimeter hedge, Harry was struck once again by how much detail Fabio Greengrass and his crew of garden elves had managed to incorporate into their landscaping, while, at the same time, making everything look like the trees, shrubs, flowers and grasses had just happened to occur naturally where they were.

"Hello, Head Auror!" said the talking gate in its squeaky-hinge voice. "Welcome back to Greengrass Manor. You're becoming quite the regular visitor, if I may so observe."

"Talking gate, what business is that of yours? If I may ask," said Harry, with a little smile just starting at the corners of his mouth. "If I'm making you work too hard, can I get in your good graces by bringing a few drops of oil on my next visit?"

"Most kind of you to offer, Head Auror," said the gate, "but as you can imagine, oil only causes talking gates to lose their voices. One of the hazards of the trade, one could say."

Harry walked up to the door of the manor thinking it would be interesting to sit down with the first witch or wizard who'd done so, and discuss the ramifications of charming inanimate objects, to make them capable of speech.

Trix opened the door as Harry's foot hit the first step.

"Welcome, Master Harry!" said the elf. "Miss Daphne said to go on through to the sunny room by the patio. Can Trix bring you anything after your journey? Coffee, tea, pumpkin juice, mineral water?"

"Thank you Trix, I'd love a cup of coffee, no cream, no sugar, and a mineral water to go with it," Harry replied.

Harry found Daphne and Kendra sitting at a table near the door. The November air outside had been chilly, but the room, through application of warming charms, the sunshine coming in through the windows, or some combination, while not cozy, was still very comfortable. Harry checked his watch and saw that it was five minutes after three.

"Harry!" Daphne said, getting up and crossing the room. She took Harry's hand as they bumped cheeks in a kiss, of sorts.

"Mrs. Greengrass," Harry said. He pulled out a chair from the table where Kendra and Daphne had been sitting.

"Harry!" said Kendra. "Welcome back. How has work been?"

"Not at all bad, actually," Harry said. "Magical London is surprisingly well-behaved at the moment. The rest of England is almost never a problem. There were some arrests in Scotland yesterday. One family, five arrests. They'd decided to become independent dragon brokers and were well on their way to incubating their first batch of eggs. Once the aurors made the arrests and the magical wildlife people confiscated the eggs, at least a couple of the family came to their senses, according to our reports. It looks like it is, literally, a case of "What were you thinking?" They are coming to the realization that getting arrested is not just the least of their problems, it was probably a lucky break. Dragons are not synonymous with Make Big Galleons In Your Spare Time!"

At this point Daphne and Kendra were doubled over with laughter. Trix arrived with Harry's coffee, a small bottle of mineral water, and a small glass.

"Thank you, Trix," Harry said. "This coffee smells terrific."

"What kind of facility did they have for the dragons?" Kendra asked.

"That's just it," Harry said. "Nothing, beyond a little stone barn with wooden posts and beams, and a shingle roof. It probably wouldn't have been standing twenty-four hours after they put their first baby dragon in there, since even a baby dragon can set something like that on fire. That's what they seem to be coming to realize. They knew nothing about magical creatures, so, naturally, they decided to start at the top."

This elicited another laughter episode, a little milder this time.

"What has been happening out here?" Harry asked.

"Anticipating everyone getting together at the ball, mostly," Kendra said. "Fabio and I haven't been for several years. He's really excited to be going with Daphne and Astoria, and their handsome young men. I suspect he believes your youthful glow will throw a favorable light on us."

"Perhaps, but you two don't need it," Harry said.

"Stop flirting with my mother Harry, at least until I'm a suitable distance from the tasteless scene," Daphne commanded.

For a moment, Harry thought he'd committed a serious _faux pas_ , then Kendra and Daphne laughed, and Daphne squeezed his hand.

"Just having some fun," Daphne said.

"Flirt all you want, Harry," Kendra added, eliciting a disapproving snort from Daphne.

"Okay, in that case," Harry began, "Change of subject? I found out a couple of weeks ago, that my mum and dad left me some real estate. I'd no idea. No memories of having been there, of course. Apparently, there was a fairly substantial house, because Gringott's referred to it as Potter Manor. My understanding is I own the land, most of which is rented and actually operates in the black, but the site of the house is available for building. The goblins said Voldemort destroyed the structures because my parents wouldn't stop resisting. Anyway, since you and Mr. Greengrass knew them, I was wondering if you have any photos showing how it looked?"

Kendra swallowed.

"I think, there might be," she said. "Can you give me a minute or two to look?"

Daphne watched as Kendra stood and walked out of the sunny room into the hall. Harry heard a door open, which he assumed must be the library door.

Daphne gave him a smile.

"That's great news, Harry," she said. "Do you want to try to restore Potter Manor?"

"No idea," Harry said. "Honestly, there have been some quite plain, and homely manor houses. All I know at the moment is that if I've got the land, there might as well be a house of some kind on it. I was hoping you'd come with me to take an initial look at it, if you're game."

"Sure," said Daphne, as Kendra reentered the room.

Kendra put a photo album on the table in front of Harry. She had inserted a finger between two leaves, and flipped the book open.

"Here you go," she said. "You and Daphne here, with Lily and me."

Harry looked and saw the two adults, but didn't see any sign of two children. He and Daphne would have been toddlers, at the most. All Harry saw were two young women, standing in front of a large brick home. From the closeness of their bodies, he guessed they had their arms crossed behind their backs.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"Watch," said Kendra, and, as Harry watched, the young women dropped their arms and pivoted a quarter turn, when the view of them from the side plainly showed their baby bumps.

"Expectant witch humor," Kendra said. "Now, here are a few more of the house…"

But Harry said, "Wait, just a minute, please."

He stared, fixedly, for more than a minute, as Lily and Kendra, in the image in the photo, stood hip-to-hip, then dropped their arms and turned so they were seen in profile. They both laughed, then they resumed their original positions, and did it all over again.

"I've never seen anything remotely like this before," Harry said. "We do go back a bit, after all, Daphne."

Kendra and Daphne exchanged glances.

"Mmm-hmm," said Daphne, smiling as she gave Harry's hand another squeeze.

Eventually, Harry's curiosity about the house returned, and he let Kendra turn the page. There were interior and exterior views of a spacious brick home, many with indicators that this was a wizarding household, if the viewer knew the signs. There was a large portrait of James Potter over a fireplace, wearing a Gryffindor quidditch robe. A wizard's chess set, stopped in mid-game on a game table in a library, stood near a desk upon which perched an owl, ready to dispatch correspondence.

"That's Lily, me, your predecessor Amelia Bones, and Alice Longbottom," Kendra said, pointing out a group of witches sitting around a patio table. "And a couple more of your classmates, if I've got my dates straight. See the runes? You can guess what we're doing there, can't you?"

"Boy or girl?" Harry offered.

"Exactly. Very perceptive, for a wizard," Kendra said.

"How'd you do?" Harry asked.

"They were 100% accurate, of course, Harry," Daphne interjected. "As witches always are. Is that news to you? Well, now you know, don't you?"

Harry stared at Daphne, trying to ascertain whether he had been reprimanded, gotten an etiquette lesson, or just informed of a fact that had somehow slipped by him in school. Daphne held his gaze, and Harry decided the glacial blue-gray eyes indicated she was not actually angry. If she had been, the amber fire would have given her away. Harry glanced over at Kendra, who was clearly struggling to keep a straight face.

"I…see," Harry said, keeping his own face as neutral as possible.

When they had worked their way through the Potter Manor-specific photos, Harry closed the album.

"Thanks. I'll probably ask to see that again. I have no idea what we'll find on the property. From what Gringott's said, the buildings were reduced to rubble, which has been cleared away. It might be possible to design something completely from the ground up, specifically for the site and purpose. The first thing is to find out what is there to work with.

"Were you there very often?" Harry asked.

"Not that often," Kendra said. "James and Lily didn't get serious until well into our seventh year. After they got married, they had us over a few times. James wasn't really a manor house type at that point, and, sadly, he didn't have enough time to become one."

"Would you say he was headed that way?" Harry asked. "If things had gone differently?"

"He might very well have, given the chance," Kendra said. "Lily loved to have people around her, and James could be a gracious host. We'll never know, but I could see them presiding over magical country weekends at the manor. They had the circle of friends and the personalities to make it work."

Harry looked at Daphne. Harry wasn't given to fantasizing about the future, but he couldn't help thinking Kendra could have been describing Daphne. She certainly had the circle of friends and the personality to make a magical country weekend work.

"Well, should we go take a look?" Harry asked. "Are you dressed warm enough?"

"There's a cloak in the hall," replied Daphne. "Do you know how to get there?"

"I've some directions from the goblins at Gringott's. Could you take a look, Mrs. Greengrass?" Harry asked, pulling out a folded piece of parchment.

Kendra took the parchment, and opened it up. She took her time reading it, then re-folded it and handed it back to Harry.

"You'd probably get there, but I'd prefer it if I took you, this once. Then when you want to go back you can just visualize it and apparate. If that's okay?" Kendra asked, looking between them. "Otherwise I'll have visions of you two aimlessly apparating from fen to moor."

"Even better," said Harry.

The three walked to the hall, where Daphne and Kendra selected tweed cloaks from the hall tree. They left via the squeaky gate and climbed the little ridge near the site of Harry's fight with the three intruders.

"Here is good," Kendra said. She stepped between Harry and Daphne and put an arm around each. They laid their arms over hers, and Harry gripped Daphne's forearm. Kendra twisted slightly, and the three of them lurched a bit, before landing on a green hilltop.

Harry looked around, but he couldn't see any signs of recent activity. He was beginning to think Kendra had been unable to get them to the right property when she said,

"Look over here, Harry, do you see those patches where the grass stops and those stalks are sticking up? Those were flower beds in the garden. Let's go see what is left of them. Wands out, I think, and let's see if we can detect any stay-behind jinxes or spells your late enemy might have left us," Kendra said.

"You know, Harry, we might all be good at what we do, but before making too many commitments, I think I might get your friend Bill Weasley to come and give this property a thorough going-over. He's a specialist," Kendra added.

The three of them walked toward the abandoned garden, spread out from one another, each casting revealing charms ahead of the group. Kendra stopped, looked down, and saw cobblestones underfoot, nearly covered in the stalks of fallen flowers and grasses.

"Let's stop here," she said. "As I recall, these cobblestones made a big semi-circle here. This was tables and chairs, the flowering plant beds were there, herbs over there, those are some fruit trees, apples and pears and cherries, and the main house was there. It looks like the flower beds still produce flowers. Let's see… _revelio…_ there's some charm at work. Something left from when the garden was being cared for."

"I know the directions said Devon, but where are we?" Harry asked.

"Devon, as you said" said Kendra. "The light isn't favorable, but that is the Dart, behind those trees. You should be able to see it well in full daylight. Dartmouth is downstream, of course, that way. There ought to be a glow at night. It's been thirty years, give or take, since I was here, but I think I remember being able to see sails on the Channel from someplace on the grounds."

Harry looked around, orienting himself. He would be able to apparate back whenever he wished, if he had a clear memory to use in visualizing where he wanted to go.

"I don't remember anything from back then," Harry said. "I was too young. It does seem familiar, though. Healer Daphne, am I imagining things?"

Daphne thought for a moment.

"Harry, I'd have to address that in a proper, clinical setting, for it to have any validity. Offhand, I'd say no, you're not imagining it. Not having a clear memory would not necessarily preclude feelings of familiarity. If you were here when you were very young, just a toddler, toddling around, you might have looked out to the valley, or smelled distinct smells, or felt the cobblestones with your feet, you could have recorded impressions of what your senses were sensing, which could still be there, very strong, just not fully formed as we think of memories. When you're cued, after twenty-six or twenty-seven years, the impressions come alive and you get that feeling you've been here before. Those experiences can be real, and the impression accurate."

"All I can say," said Harry, "is someone had fine taste in homesites. Mrs. Greengrass, do you think you can find where the foundation of the manor would have been? We're losing our daylight, but if you could give me an idea where the house was, I can come back and do a more thorough tour later."

Kendra took a moment to look around. Then she looked down at the cobblestones and followed their course, generally away from the beds.

"This was the back wall of the house," she said. "This block was the step up to a door, into a solarium that went all the way across the back. The second floor on this side was all bedrooms, up there," she pointed directly above the stone step. "All the bedrooms had a view across the valley, to the Dart. Some of the fields down there belong to the estate, although I never knew which ones. I remember one time when fog was down in the valley, but the slopes, here and on the other side, rose up out of it and had sunshine on them. It felt like being in a palace in the clouds. Magical.

"Someone had been a serious astronomer, because there was a porch or balcony that broke the angle of the roof on the top floor, and allowed one to exit and place a tripod up there. There was one on the front as well. Not conventional home building, even for a wizarding family. One night, when Lily and James were here, we'd brought chairs out on the porch, three floors up, and James and Fabio ended up testing each other's capacity for identifying stars while consuming firewhisky. Lily and I had to keep our wands in our hands, just in case our wizards found themselves unbalanced near the railing. We never needed them, oddly enough. Now that I think about it, I wonder if someone before us had put an anti-falling-over-the-railing charm in place?"

Harry turned his head to the side, and retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket. Kendra put her arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him to her.

"Everything okay, Harry?" she asked.

"I don't have any memories of them," Harry said. "The Dursleys didn't even have photos around, so I didn't see any until Hagrid put a little album together for me during our first year at Hogwarts. Seeing your album, and coming out here, is kind of overwhelming. Happy overwhelming, though."

"That's good, Harry," Kendra said. "You should be happy. Your parents would be very proud of you right now. You deserve your happiness.

"Now, should we head back? There isn't a lot more to see in this light, unless we want to wander around casting _lumos_ and bumping into each other."

They apparated back to Greengrass Manor, and Harry thanked Kendra for the guided tour.

"I needed to see the place in person," he said. "Now I can go back, walk around, and see what there is to work with. And thanks for the idea of getting Bill Weasley to look it over. I haven't seen him lately, so now I have a good excuse to owl him.

"Could I interest you in an evening on the town, Daphne?" Harry asked when they reached the foyer. "The journey to Devon and back seems to have given me an appetite."

"I might be able to put away a salad," Daphne said. "I'll get my purse and come right back."

"And I'll leave you two here," Kendra said. "Nice to see you again, Harry. See you tomorrow night."

Kendra had just left for the rear of the house when Daphne came down the steps. She was carrying a leather satchel with a wide shoulder strap, which could have been a bag for work, or could have held a batch of overnight necessities.

"That was quick. Want to drop that at the flat?" Harry asked.

"No, I'll hang on to it," Daphne said.

"Good, we're ready to go. Can we go by floo?" Harry asked.

"If you want," said Daphne. "Where?"

"Morgan le Fay's," Harry answered.

"Harry, is that a real place, or is it code for something?" Daphne asked, suspicious.

Harry took in her expression and decided she was serious.

"Let's give it a try and find out," he said. "Besides, what could go wrong?"

"Wrong question, accidental time traveler," Daphne said, "but we can try it your way."

Daphne reached for Harry's hand, took a good pinch of floo powder with her other, and the two of them walked into the fireplace.


	6. Chapter 6

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Six

Date Night

Daphne reached for Harry's hand, took a good pinch of floo powder with her other, and the two of them walked into the fireplace.

"Morgan le Fay's," Daphne said, and WHOOSHED them to the reception area of the Magic Club.

"Head Auror, welcome back," said Madame Ba, stepping out from behind her desk. "May I venture to guess that you, and Mademoiselle, are joining us for dinner?"

"You may," Harry said, "and may I take this opportunity to present my dear friend Miss Daphne Greengrass, who you may be seeing much more of, if she is as impressed on her first visit as I was on mine? Daphne, this is Madame Ba, who presides over Morgan le Fay's, keeps traffic moving, knows which special you're sure to like, and so on."

"You've fallen for Mr. Zabini's fabrications, Mr. Potter," said Madame Ba, casually pointing her wand at Harry and Daphne, in turn. "You're in luck, there is a table available with a fine view of the river, the Eye, and points south. If you'll come with me…"

"The cream of asparagus soup and the vegetarian pot pie with biscuits are exquisite tonight," said Madame Bar as they walked. "I found the grilled Thuringer sausage a bit oily for my taste, but I'm known to be touchy that way, so use your judgment. The fish, frankly, is edible, but pedestrian, best for people who can't differentiate between food groups, so glad we have a number of them with us this evening."

Madame Ba stopped at a table next to the window. "Wait staff will be with you shortly," she said. "Enjoy your dinner. So nice to meet you, Miss Greengrass. I hope we see a lot of you here."

"Harry, what in the world?" Daphne asked, looking out at London at night.

"I know," Harry said. "Blaise brought me here for a business lunch, and I liked it so much I joined up. He told me that he and Oliver Wood had a problem getting into the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, got to talking, and ended up organizing this club. What do you think of the view?"

"It's beyond description. Where are we?"

"Don't know, exactly. Blaise said it is a newer building, but these are magical floors. That covers a lot of territory. How the magical part works, I have no idea. All I know is that we're here, and London is there, and it's fascinating to look at."

The waiter appeared and offered menus.

"This evening's specials are vegetable pot pie," he said, "which comes with house-recipe biscuits, a grilled Thuringer sausage with choice of potato, broiled trout on a bed of watercress, and the soup is cream of asparagus. There are a number of deserts, but the fruit and cheese plate is getting raves tonight."

Daphne chose a cup of asparagus soup and the vegetable pot pie. Harry got the grilled sausage and fried potatoes, which earned him a momentarily-wrinkled brow from his date, but apparently did not induce a need to comment.

"We're early," Harry said. "The evening will be young when we're finishing up. Any requests for a follow-on? I confess I didn't get that far in my planning."

"I'm kind of tired, to be honest," Daphne said. "I worked this morning, then you came along and took Mother and me on that interesting field trip."

"Okay, suits me," said Harry. "We'll take as long as we like here, then, if we're not going anywhere else. There is a lounge upstairs, comfy chairs, waiters bringing coffee and tea, the clientele staring out, contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

"There is a new production of Macbeth in town, if you like Shakespeare. Not tonight, we've decided, but sometime. I like Macbeth. Witches."

"Witches?" Daphne said, smiling. "You like consorting with witches, Harry?"

"They make the best consorts, it's widely-acknowledged. Besides, I should tell you, my mother was a witch."

Daphne started to laugh.

"This conversation is deteriorating, rapidly. What did you think of the Potter Manor? Did you get any architectural ideas?"

"Of course," Harry said. "Your mother was invaluable. I wasn't impressed with the photos of the main house, were you? It didn't strike me as particularly distinguished, or evocative of magical ideas.

"The site is spectacular, though, at least to me. Sitting up on that hill, looking down the valley to the Dart. I'd like to see it at night, to see that glow from Dartmouth Mrs. Greengrass talked about. Not to mention, if someone took the trouble to design balconies to accommodate telescopes, it must be a good place for really seeing the nighttime sky.

"The old house was brick, but I was wondering what kind of stone they have in that part of Devon. It might be fun to go with local stone, taking care to build in sunny rooms for winter, wide eaves for summer, all the magical conveniences. Like an owlery. I don't know why, but I always wanted my own owlery.

"I might even turn into the kind of host who could make a country weekend successful."

Daphne considered Harry across the table.

"Harry Potter, you aren't going all magical social circuit on us, are you? First you buy half a table for St. Mungo's Ball, then you start planning country weekends at your manor. Where will it end?"

"When you took me swimming in Greengrass Lake…" Harry began.

"Harry, you've earned one firm 'Ahem' and a sour look," Daphne said, although Harry noticed she was blushing as she looked away at London.

"I have been thinking about what you said, though," Harry said, with a bit more seriousness. "There is the Black estate, that needs looking-after, then the Potter properties. Not that I want to take over from Gringott's right away, but I did learn a couple of things in the bureaucracy, and one is, if a principal isn't taking an interest, neither is anyone else.

"I'd like to see those places looking their best. They're visible records of the families that put them together. Generations of work have gone into them. Look at Grimmauld Place. The Blacks have been there for hundreds of years. People see dilapidation and draw conclusions, and vice versa."

The waiter arrived with a tray.

"Cream of asparagus, and the pot pie. And the grilled sausage with potatoes. Something from the cellar to go with your meal?"

"A large bottle of mineral water, please," Daphne said, looking at Harry.

"Another glass for some mineral water," Harry said, earning an approving smile.

"I need to bring Fabio to lunch here," Harry said. "Don't you think? His interest in magical architecture kind of compels it."

"Harry, don't get too carried away with this, but Father would be thrilled if you invited him to share sandwiches on a park bench. He's very focused on business, and he needs to take more breaks. He won't do it for himself, so I would be delighted if you gave me a hand with that," Daphne said, looking Harry in the eye.

"Consider it done, first opportunity I have, next week if we're both free," Harry said. "Now, what else is going on, how are the Malfoy-Greengrass talks progressing?"

"They're working out the announcement. Money isn't a concern for either family, so there isn't any of that unseemly auctioning-off of Astoria. Father made sure both of us have independent means years ago, just to preclude that sort of thing. He and mother both part with the old ways over that.

"Besides, Draco and Astoria picked each other out, and my recommendation to anyone would be to not mess with those two. There is something about them, I see it when they're together. I think getting in their way over their choice would earn the person foolish enough to try it a lifetime of misery."

"How did that happen, anyway," Harry asked. "I don't remember Draco being interested in anyone, particularly, despite Pansy Parkinson's best efforts."

Harry's oblique reference to school days triggered a laugh that Daphne muffled with the help of her napkin.

"Well, your guess is as good as mine. All I know is one night, after she got home, it's been a couple of years now, Astoria came in my room and, out of the blue, said she was going to marry Draco Malfoy. Just like that. I couldn't get much more out of her. My understanding is he didn't ask, exactly, but they were among some school friends who went to Hogsmeade, to the Three Broomsticks, and one by one and two by two, everyone else left, and they sat by the fire, just the two of them, talking and holding hands and making goo-goo eyes until Madame Rosmerta kicked them out, and when they were done, they'd bonded. She may have been more explicit with Mother, but if she was, Mother isn't giving anything away. All I can say for sure is Draco and Astoria have been a thing ever since."

"So, when's the announcement?" Harry asked.

"That's one of the issues they're discussing. Most of the magical venues are booked until after the New Year, and they'll want an engagement party when they announce it," Daphne said.

Harry cut off a bite of sausage, speared it with his fork, and pushed it into the mustard on the edge of his plate.

"What would you think," he said, "they would say, if we offered to host it at Grimmauld Place? After consulting with Madame, of course. If she isn't on board, she'll just make everyone miserable, and that isn't what we'd want. Draco is her grand-nephew, though, isn't he? I have a hunch, presented as part of our project to burnish the Black family image, she'd go for it."

Daphne finished her soup and moved the cup to the side, putting the pot pie in its place.

"Depending on how many people they want to invite, it could work," she said. "Do you want me to offer it to Astoria? Pending consultation, as you said."

"Perhaps a preliminary feeler? Can it hurt?" Harry asked. "We could throw them a nice party and let the people who pay attention see #12 in action again. Everyone gets a nice event in a magical, historical venue, Kreacher and Madame see us actively representing Black-dom, et cetera."

"Done. I'll talk to Astoria sometime in the next few days, and if she's game, we'll do it."

"Good," said Harry, "and I think we should raise it as soon as possible with Madame Walburga, together. We'll be hosting together, so it's best if the two of us are in on everything, just to keep communications problems to a minimum. Plus, she really likes you, so your presence will help us get her on board."

"Harry Potter. You politician," Daphne said, appearing to be slightly surprised.

"Well, anyone can learn, one supposes," Harry answered her. "Pot pie good tonight?"

"Madame Ba is both candid and truthful," Daphne said. "Or perhaps we just have similar taste in food. How is yours?"

"Great, not oily at all, in my opinion," Harry said. "She must have tasted an outlier. Are the biscuits a good fit?"

"They are. You can't see him because you're facing the wrong way, but Blaise just looked around the partition by reception. I think he saw us."

Daphne was correct, and a minute later, Blaise Zabini showed up at their table.

"Harry! And, if I'm not mistaken, my fellow Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass," Blaise greeted them.

"Hullo, Blaise," Daphne said.

"You're back already, Harry. Was the food that good?"

"It was okay, but I mainly wanted to impress Daphne, with my sophisticated understanding of the better London wizarding establishments," Harry said. "We're well into our meals, but you're welcome to join us."

"Oh, no, that looked like a serious conversation you two were having when I came in," Blaise said. "I'm headed up to the library for a cup of tea and a newspaper. I need some quiet time. Nice to see you both here. We'll do a real evening sometime soon."

After Blaise left, Daphne leaned toward Harry and said, "What has he been up to? He dropped out of sight for several years. Now, here he is in London, organizing clubs with Oliver Wood."

Harry inclined his head and said, quietly, "I can tell you, just not here. As you said, he was gone for a few years. Now he has a consulting business. He was very interested in our time stream story, particularly the part where Chief Inspector Zabini was married to Daphne Greengrass. According to our Blaise, marrying Daphne was every Slytherin lad's dream, at one time or another. He also gave you credit, let's see, he said they all knew you had things to do, and they'd be reduced to saying, 'Healer Greengrass, yes, she was in our year, we're all very proud.'"

Daphne had stopped eating her pot pie. She looked at Harry, fork hovering over her food.

"Are you mocking me, Potter?" she asked. Harry thought her eyes showed signs of amber trying to break through the blue.

"No, why?" Harry asked. "He really did say that. Did I say something offensive?"

Daphne relaxed.

"It's not your fault, Harry. Remember how you felt about being the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Like it was yesterday," Harry said. "I almost died putting that to rest. If I had, whew—bad outcomes all around."

"So you know how being misunderstood can have unfair consequences. Someone in Slytherin named me the Arctic Queen, and it stuck. I kept my mind on my studies to stay occupied, and some wag takes it upon themselves to interpret me and pass judgment. Do you find me icy?" Daphne asked.

"Not at all," Harry said. "I find you warm, smart, funny, and of course you know you're beautiful. I noticed that, too. Right away, before we even exchanged words, as a matter of fact."

"I'm just a little sensitive to Slytherins who remind me of that. Maybe too sensitive. Blaise probably didn't mean anything negative," Daphne said.

She took a bite of pot pie. Harry looked at her over his glass of mineral water. Her eyes seemed to be blue-gray again.

"The thing is, Harry," Daphne said, "I strongly suspect I couldn't have formed a bond with anyone, other than you. I have a hunch our mothers meddled with our emotional responses. Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, let's not look too closely at the magic," Harry said. "It would be sad, if the magic went away."

"You've been listening, Harry," said Daphne, her voice becoming low, honey-like. "I find that so-o-o attractive in a man."

They continued eating, looking out at London at night.

"May I suggest," Harry said, sitting up and laying his knife and fork across his plate, "a nice, light dessert, a shared mixed fruit and cheese plate, and some tea, upstairs in the lounge? I recall comfy chairs that face out for quiet contemplation of the wonders of London, seen from above."

He signaled the waiter.

"We'll be going up to the lounge. Can we get a fruit and cheese plate to share, and a pot of tea?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter," said the waiter. "You and Miss Greengrass can go on up, I'll be there shortly."

Daphne emptied the mineral water into her glass, filling it up, and picked it up from the table. Harry indicated the way to the stairway up to the floor above. A fair number of people were scattered about the lounge, but Harry and Daphne had their choice of excellent viewing spots. Daphne led Harry over to a puffy settee before a north-facing window. They had barely taken a seat when the waiter arrived with tea and their fruit plate. They left the tea to steep and looked out toward the north, as the lights of London got thinner and thinner, finally reduced to the long strings of overhead lamps lining the major motorways.

"Dragon," Daphne said, pointing down at a shadow that passed between them and the lights below.

Harry watched the movement until it disappeared.

"You're right, that WAS a dragon," Harry said. "I could just see the wings moving. I wonder how often that happens? If we were on the street, looking up through the lights, it would be impossible to see them, wouldn't it? They could be flying over all the time. How would we know? Shall I pour?"

"Please," Daphne said. "Thank you."

She picked up her cup and saucer, looking over them at Harry. "Us," she said, lifting the cup from the saucer.

Harry picked up his, and said, "Us."

They touched their cups, making a dull 'clink' and sipped the tea. Both turned back toward the window, and stared out to the north, watching the vehicles coming and going.

"Harry?" Daphne said.

"Uh-huh?"

"Did you ever learn to drive?"

"Yes. It's required of aurors. It's kind of a contingency, there really isn't a lot of need for aurors to use them. We have to pass a driving test to enter on duty, and re-qualify every year. Why? Can you drive?"

"I did when I was at university. It's a bit far to walk between lectures and hospitals, and secure apparation points are limited. Magicals who want to get around are better off adopting some muggle methods. Except the faculty, of course. They go a limited number of places, and those are all convenient to the apparation points."

"Were there lots of magical faculty? I have encountered exactly one."

"You've probably met more, but you didn't need to know, so you weren't informed. Try the cheddar with an apple wedge."

Harry turned to the fruit and cheese.

"Academics tend to focus on their subject matter. The magical types stay around the university, teach a bit and the rest of the time they're in the lab or the library. They don't come to the attention of the aurors very often. Did you ever read Newton's arrest reports?"

"Newton was arrested?"

"Not to my knowledge. That's the point."

Harry stared out at the cityscape. He finally spoke up.

"Ah. My leg! My leg! It's being pulled!"

Daphne looked at him out of the corner of her eye. They sat, enjoying the view. When neither was holding a bit of fruit or cheese, their hands seemed to gravitate together on the seat between them. Harry was starting to feel the warm, fuzzy onset of sleep when Daphne stirred.

"Okay. Not one more bite," she said, standing up.

Harry stood up, stretched, and led the way to the stairs. They nodded to people they knew as they walked through the lounge, then went down, and out to Madame Ba's reception area.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass, how was everything?" Madame Ba asked.

"Madame Ba, I took your suggestion, a cup of the cream of asparagus and the vegetable pot pie. I feel like picking a fight with the jabberwock," Daphne said.

"Head Auror, do something, this lady is a threat to our endangered species," Madame Ba implored. "How was the sausage?"

"Perfect, apparently it was just oily enough for my taste, and the potatoes were fried, which I always appreciate," Harry said.

Daphne put one arm through the shoulder strap of her bag and reached for Harry's hand. She led him into the fireplace, dropped some floo powder, said "Harry's flat," and WHOOSHED them out of Morgan le Fay's.

"Tired?" she asked, walking into the living room.

"I could stay awake a bit longer," Harry answered.

Daphne looked at Harry, reached out, and put her hand on the back of his head. She pulled him to her, although she probably didn't need to, as he was already closing the gap between them on his own. Their lips met, and it felt so good they left them there.

Pulling away, Daphne lay her cheek against Harry's and whispered in his ear, "My Slytherin blanket is at the manor, so you are going to have to take charge. Now."


	7. Chapter 7

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Seven

The Day of the Ball

Saturday morning arrived, much too soon, announced by the enchanted crowing rooster statuette. Daphne got up first.

"Harry, I have a few things I want to leave here. Do you have a least-used drawer I can have?" Daphne asked.

"Second from the top."

After putting all of Harry's items from the second drawer on top of the dresser, Daphne opened her satchel and started putting things away. To Harry it appeared she was throwing things in at random, but there must have been some system at work because when he walked past, everything was folded, grouped like with like, and sectioned by type of clothing.

"I'll need it for one minute, then you can have the bath while I make us tea," Harry said.

Harry got the tea and hot water together in the pot, then pulled a jar of pumpkin juice from the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. He looked in the fridge, and then in the cupboard, but aside from a package of digestive crackers, could not produce anything to eat. He took two cups and saucers from the shelf, placing them next to the teapot.

When it sounded like Daphne was done showering, Harry grabbed some clean clothes and knocked on the bathroom door.

For the next two minutes, they did a little minuet in the flat's minimal bathroom, until Daphne left.

"There's really nothing to have for breakfast," said Harry when he rejoined her in the kitchen. "Can I invite you to my cafeteria?"

"Or, you can come to St. Mungo's," Daphne said, "when and if you get ready."

"I poured yours, so it ought to be cooled to perfection," she said, nodding at the second cup.

"Mmmm…just right," Harry said.

"You haven't tried it yet," Daphne reminded him.

"If you say it's perfect, it's perfect," Harry said, in his most sincere tones.

Harry decided he could skip shaving, which made him almost ready to get into his work clothes. On Saturday, those were white shirt, charcoal suit with his tie in his pocket (just in case), and black shoes.

An owl landed on the sill, Daily Prophet in its beak.

"Your competition is here," Daphne said as she opened the window for the owl.

Harry opened a drawer and fished out the required knuts, paid the owl, and took the newspaper. He scanned the front page for items he'd need to investigate when he got to the office. There were no major crimes in the headlines, so he passed the paper to Daphne.

"Competition?" Harry asked, remembering Daphne's statement.

"For biggest magical fabricator. The only difference is, most of your fabrications are sweet, or funny, and the best ones are both."

"I won't be able to focus at work if you're going to be so nice to me," said Harry.

"Compartmentalize, Harry," Daphne advised. "We've each got a few hours of work, and then a countdown to seven p.m. Ready to leave? Whose cafeteria do you want to patronize?"

"I'll go to St. Mungo's with you," said Harry. "Got everything?"

Daphne stuffed the Daily Prophet into her bag. They stepped into the fireplace holding hands. Daphne dropped some floo powder and said "St. Mungo's."

With a WHOOSH they were gone, stepping into the atrium at St. Mungo's moments later.

"This way," Daphne said. She conducted Harry through a labyrinth of corridors and stairwells, emerging without warning in a commodious space equipped with a variety of tables and chairs, bars and stools. Harry saw a cafeteria line staffed by kitchen elves in white jackets and toques.

"Recommendations?" Harry asked. "Pro or con? The sausages aren't oily, are they?"

Daphne looked at him, and advised, "It may not be a miracle you're still alive, but there could be some magic involved. Eat whatever you want if you're determined to look like Horace Slughorn before you're forty, but, since you asked, the mixed fresh fruit and a couple of spoons of that cottage cheese will be a revelation. The cottage cheese is fresh, and it comes from a little farm somewhere to the west. Interesting story behind it."

Harry saw things Daphne's way, and put a plate of cottage cheese and mixed fruit together. Daphne touched her wand to a contrivance that reminded Harry of a manual adding machine he had seen one time in a muggle shop. The machine actuated at Daphne's wand's touch, making mechanical sounds and pulling a paper tape from a roll. Harry grasped that she had paid for them both and let Daphne lead the way to an empty table.

"Leave your plate, it will come to us once we're seated," she said.

Harry pulled out a chair for Daphne, then sat down across from her. A tiny kitchen elf appeared, two plates suspended above her extended index fingers. Harry and Daphne picked their plates out of the air and set them down. The elf snapped her fingers and two sets of silverware appeared, neatly wrapped in linen napkins.

"What would you like to drink, Healer Daphne?" the little elf asked.

"Coffee? Tea? Pumpkin juice?" Daphne asked, looking at Harry.

"Pumpkin juice sounds good," Harry said.

"Two pumpkin juices, please, Faye," Daphne said.

The elf snapped her fingers and two glasses of pumpkin juice materialized in her hands. Setting them down on the table before Harry and Daphne, the elf asked if there was anything else.

"No, Faye. Thank you very much, I think we'll be fine," Daphne answered.

"You're welcome, Healer Daphne," said the elf, departing back to the serving line.

"What a sweetie," Harry said.

"She is, and nearly as much of an institution as St. Mungo's. Literally, generations of healers, et cetera, et cetera. She remembers everyone, no matter how long they've been away."

Daphne had spread the Daily Prophet out while she was talking. Harry noticed that the left hand page had the lighter news items—some society notes, a wizarding family back from a vacation trip, and the popular blind items column. He didn't pay a lot of attention to the latter, finding no stimulation in trying to guess which young swell took a glam date to a club opening, or who was seen having dinner with whom in an out of the way place where they were unlikely to be recognized, or why they would go to so much trouble in the first place.

"And so it begins," Daphne said, folding the paper, then folding it again and handing it to Harry.

"Two highly-marriageable parties were spotted dining and relaxing at a private magical venue last night. Despite their conflict-prone house affiliations and widely-divergent professions, the two leaned over the table and conversed throughout the evening in hushed tones. One well-known for his fiery personality, the other for an icy imperiousness, the pair seem ill-suited, unless an alliance is in the offing to vault the strange bedfellows up several more rungs on their respective ladders," Harry read aloud.

"Is that us?" asked Harry.

"Do you think?" Daphne responded. "I suppose we're going to have to get used to it. You're news, just tying your shoe."

"Or attending a Harpies match," Harry said, tossing the paper back on the table. "I can't read this stuff. Sitting in the stands is salacious in these gossip columns."

"Sitting in the stands wasn't the salacious part, as you well know, but I take your point, Harry. Notice how the reporter managed to work in an ice reference? Must be a Slytherin! We're not supposed to like each other because of conflicting house loyalties, we're fire and ice, therefore, it must be a calculated political alliance to advance our careers," Daphne said. "Oh, well, no use getting all exercised about it. You'd think we could go out one time before they caught on, but obviously there was someone there who feeds the reporter this kind of stuff. Right now there are at least fifty people who have figured this out. By this evening there will be five hundred. Not much we can do about it."

"At least the mixed fruit and fresh cottage cheese is good," Harry said. "That stuff in the Prophet isn't going to hurt us, and if someone figures out I was lucky enough to get a date with you, and get you to talk to me throughout the evening, in hushed tones no less, it simply saves me from informing them about it myself. I expect I do look funny shouting from rooftops."

Daphne started to laugh as Harry got to his feet.

"Are you all set for around two at Grimmauld Place?" he asked, as Daphne got up.

"Dropped my things yesterday with Kreacher. He's excited about our little function tonight. He's trying to contain himself, but you can tell," she said.

"Then I'll be at the ministry, if you need me. Probably skip lunch so I can get to #12. Where do I go to apparate?"

"Lift to the roof, I'll take you up. It's still how we're coming back tonight, unless you object."

As Daphne showed Harry the way to the apparation point on the roof of St. Mungo's, she greeted a steady stream of colleagues they met in the corridors. Harry didn't know if it was his imagination, or if some of them, by their facial expressions, were giving away the fact that they had already deciphered the blind item.

The lift stopped and the doors opened onto a small bare lobby. The only way out was through a pair of double doors.

"Out the doors and straight ahead. There are charms in place to mitigate crosswinds, but be aware there can still be a little gust so you aren't taken by surprise. The apparation point is well-marked. See you at #12."

Daphne leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek, and got back in the lift.

"See you soon," Harry said with a wave.

Harry walked across the roof to the apparation point, which was well-marked as Daphne had said. He visualized the Ministry of Magic atrium, turned slightly, and with a little 'pop' apparated to the ministry. He quickly left the designated apparation area, because, even on a Saturday, there were sufficient numbers of employees arriving to result in collisions.

The Head Auror's outer office was empty when Harry arrived. He looked on his desk for any messages or new documents awaiting signature. Not seeing anything requiring immediate attention, Harry left for the auror's squad room. There, he expected to look through the overnight log, read any complete reports awaiting filing, and chat up the aurors on duty. With experience, Harry had developed a keen ear for hearing what aurors left unsaid, as well as what they said. He found conversations in the squad room to be a fine source of intelligence for what the aurors had on their minds, which often included early warning of changes in how magical criminality was evolving on the street.

Harry was very concerned about the stalled time stream investigation. While nothing had happened that involved either Daphne or him for several days, he was sure the experimenter was not sitting still, hoarding his knowledge. He resolved to be especially alert for any sign of additional time stream disruptions, until the issue was finally put to rest.

Daphne took the lift down to the mental maladies floor. She presented her wand to the door to her ward, and entered when the door unlocked with a definite 'clack' and swung out under its own power. Sunshine was coming in the east-facing windows as Daphne walked toward the nursing station. Greeting the nurse on duty, Daphne pulled two patient charts from a rack and looked at the top parchments in each one.

"Mr. Longbottom?" she said to the nurse.

"Slept all night, Healer, no nightmares, unless he had silent ones."

"And Mrs. Longbottom?"

"A little crying. She didn't vocalize any complaints. I held her hand for awhile and the crying stopped. I charted it. Would you say it's another sign of the return of some emotion? She was still sleeping when I checked on her about twenty minutes ago."

"I'll go look in on her," Daphne said. "I want to start rounds as soon as our patients finish breakfast."

At the ministry, Harry left his upstairs office and went down to the aurors' squad room. He found the senior auror present sitting in a small office just around the corner from the long duty officer's desk.

"Am I interrupting?" Harry asked.

Looking up, the auror stood up behind his desk.

"Not at all, Head Auror," said the man. "Welcome. Can you stay for some coffee or tea?"

"I'd appreciate anything," Harry said. "Just wanted to check with you and see how things are going. Anything unusual overnight, or expected today? Tonight is the St. Mungo's Ball, which I plan to attend. I can't stay very late. If anything requires my action, I'm going to count on you to prioritize it for me."

"Of course, sir. Let me fetch that coffee," the auror said, exiting the little office.

Harry didn't have a lot of places to let his eyes rest, so it didn't take any time for them to alight on a folded-over Daily Prophet on the desk. Harry had never had any problem reading upside down, so he saw immediately the paper had been folded to show the blind item about his and Daphne's dinner at the Magic Club. Assisting him in finding the column was a big red circle that someone had helpfully drawn, in company with a red arrow.

The senior auror returned, and saw right away that Harry was staring down at the Prophet.

"Sorry, sir," he said, handing Harry a cup of coffee. "Someone brought this in, and I should have trashed it right away."

"Oh, what difference does it make?" Harry asked. "It says two people went on a date, which is true, then it attributes a motivation, because the readers won't get excited without one. Have all the aurors figured it out by now?"

"The ones who are awake, sir, not that it is any of their business."

"It is their business, in a way," Harry said. "Should you feel it appropriate, in the course of a future conversation, please go ahead and tell them, from me, I'm happy being Head Auror and have no plans to depart. If that changes, the first thing I'll do is inform everyone, and the second will be to devote full attention to bringing on a new Head Auror who will look out for the office, and whom the aurors can respect."

"Yes, sir, and thank-you," said the auror.

"Now, business," Harry said. "What's been happening overnight? I checked the desk upstairs and didn't see anything pressing. Is there something wrong with London's magical criminals? Did they all get sick at the same time?"

"The aurors have noticed the same thing, sir. Just one of those slumps. We'd better enjoy it while we can. There was a little of your normal mayhem. A couple of young gents got to dueling over a quidditch argument. They're over at St. Mungo's now, getting patched up. Two Hogwarts students decided they needed a night on the town, nicked a couple of thestrals from the school herd, and flew down to Diagon Alley. Miss Abbott kept them busy with butterbeers until the lads arrived. The thestrals are back in Scotland and the young wizards are with their parents, pending school disciplinary proceedings."

"I'm tempted to laugh. I mean, as crimes go, come on. For a Friday night, that's some pretty thin gruel," Harry said.

"Shall we count our blessings?" said the auror.

At St. Mungo's, Daphne was checking on Alice Longbottom. She sat on the edge of Alice' bed and picked up her hand.

"How are you this morning, Alice?"

"Daphne," said Alice.

"That's right," Daphne said. "You're doing so much better, and you're going to be having breakfast soon. I think you're going to like today."

"What day is it?" Alice asked.

"It's Saturday, Alice. What do you think of that?" Daphne said.

"Porridge?" Alice responded.

"I believe I did see porridge. Can you get up and get yourself ready for breakfast this morning?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, yes!" said Alice, showing genuine enthusiasm.

"Now, I want to go check on Frank, and make sure he is ready for breakfast, too. You're doing so well, Alice. Everyone is so proud of you."

At the ministry, Harry returned to his office, sat down at his desk, and pulled his inbox closer. The document mix tended toward 'Info memo, document for signature, make a decision and choose option A, option B, or option C, info memo…' Harry settled into a rhythm and had the parchment disposed of in under two hours. He remembered his commitment to the minister to carry the baton at the ball, and retrieved it from his safe.

Daphne saw all of her patients, updated their charts, and made sure she spoke to each staff member present. At 10:45, she returned to the roof and apparated to Greengrass Manor.

Harry stopped by the squad room to check in with the duty officer and give the desk his contact information. At 10:50, he arrived at the atrium, and took the floo system back to his flat.

Harry hadn't kept an owl of his own since he had lost Hedwig during his flight from the Dursleys' to the Burrow, just before the start of what should have been his seventh year at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, he was practiced at using the system of common owls that facilitated communications in the magical community. Harry opened the casement window that overlooked the street. He found a piece of note parchment and sat down at the small desk that occupied one corner of the flat's living room.

"Done at the ministry, now at flat. No lunch plan. See you at 2. Harry" he wrote, then, folding the note over once, wrote, "Daphne—Greengrass Manor" before returning to the window.

He held the note in one hand, and his wand, pointed skyward, in the other. In less than a minute, a beautiful barred owl glided to a landing on the sill, folded its wings, and hopped inside. Harry tied the note to its leg, put the required knuts in the little bag on the opposite leg, and stepped back to let the owl depart.

Harry's dress robe still hung on the hanger in his bedroom. The rest of his formal attire was in the closet, so he pulled everything out and laid it on his bed, along with the Head Auror's baton. Harry took inventory: robe; trousers; formal shirt; cumberbund; shoes; baton. Cufflinks! Harry had nearly forgotten cufflinks for the formal shirt. He opened his drawer and removed a small box with many dividers inside, found two cufflinks with golden lions rampant on discs of garnet, and fitted them into the cuffs of his shirt.

Harry stepped back again and went through his inventory. All there. He picked up his shoes and gave them a look. He'd put them away after a thorough cleaning and polishing, courtesy of Twinkie, after the last time he'd worn them, so he wasn't surprised to see they looked perfect.

Gloves! Wizards usually didn't have to make extensive preparations for inclement weather, thanks to well-known drying charms, warming charms, and apparation, which relieved them from extensive periods of exposure, unless they elected them. However, wizards had worn tight silk or kid gloves for centuries, some affecting them whenever they were out of doors, others donning gloves only when in formal wear. Harry had one pair, in gray silk, with a button-and-loop closure at the wrist. With a little looking, he found both gloves under some handkerchiefs in the third drawer from the top of the dresser. Handkerchief! Harry thought, picking a white linen number and pre-placing it in the pocket of his trousers.

Something still nagged at Harry, but he couldn't think what it was. He looked at his formal outfit again and again, and everything looked fine. Clean, pressed, polished. Something triggered something, and Harry thought, "Polished. Polish my medal. Medal! Rosette!" Harry opened his odds and ends box, which still sat atop the dresser, found a little velvet-covered box, and removed a modest rosette that resembled a sunburst with a large script 'M' in the center. He pinned the rosette on the robe, roughly where he judged it would fall over his heart.

Convinced his formal suite was as complete as he was likely to get it, Harry packed everything into a large duffel and departed the flat. The door at #12 Grimmauld Place opened as Harry arrived on the top step.

"Welcome, Master Harry," Kreacher said as he stepped aside to let Harry enter.

Harry couldn't help giving Kreacher a thorough looking-over. The old elf's hairy ears had been shorn, so closely that only a tiny stubble remained, and that so short one had to be looking for it to see it. Kreacher normally went about draped in an old and faded towel that had been retired from active service years ago, but Harry was pleased to see he was in a terry tunic that appeared to have been sewn by a skilled tailor. The tunic ended well below Kreacher's knees, imparting a classical air to the elf's overall appearance. He could have almost been a valued family retainer in the days of Roman Britain.

"Are we ready for our guests tonight, Kreacher?" Harry asked. "I'm very much looking forward to hosting a purely social event at #12 Grimmauld Place."

"Yes, Master Harry. Please look thoroughly and let Kreacher make any adjustments you think necessary. Kreacher will take your bag. Will you be using the master bedroom to dress?"

"That will be fine, Kreacher," Harry said, handing over his bag. "Just hang the clothes up on hangers so they don't wrinkle, if you would."

When Daphne finished early and apparated to Greengrass Manor, she found Kendra reading in the library.

"Daphne, I didn't think I'd see you until this evening," Kendra said, looking up from the Daily Prophet.

"I got everything done that I needed to do, so I decided to check in. I'm due at Grimmauld Place around two. I saw Frank and Alice Longbottom this morning. They're doing well."

"Did you say anything about tonight?" Kendra asked.

"No, I considered it and decided it might be easier on them to wait until this evening and let Neville and Hannah take the lead," Daphne said. "They are coming around, both showing a little emotion peeking through the numbness, so they are going to be very vulnerable. I think seeing some old friends will feel good to them. I hope it does. What it must have been like to be inside their minds these last years…"

"Is Augusta coming?"

"Haven't heard one way or the other. What are you reading?"

"Oh, this?" Kendra asked. "Why, it's just the social page in the Prophet."

"Anything of interest?"

"Well, dear, since you ask, I was wondering if you had any idea who the two highly-marriageable…" Kendra started.

"Oh, the fire and ice couple from incompatible houses? Harry and I were just talking about that, at the cafeteria at work. Scamps. We grew up, you'd think whoever writes that drivel would, too."

Kendra looked over the top of her newspaper at Daphne. When their eyes met, Daphne started to chuckle.

"That's it, dear, have a good laugh. You and Harry are interesting enough, people want to read about you. Neither of you would rate mention if you weren't. Where did you go that got you in the paper?"

"It's a club for magicals. Blaise Zabini and Oliver Wood were the organizers. The food was good and it has great views of London. Harry belongs."

"Well, Daphne," Kendra began, "Take it from someone who has been there, just be on your best behavior and you won't give them anything to write about. Being fire and ice and from two different houses will have a very short shelf life. On the other hand, if it looks like the two of you are being frosty with each other, or having some kind of veiled spat in public, expect to see it right here." Kendra tapped the column with her fingertip.

"Reporters can smell that, no matter how good you think your acting is. If one of them isn't around, one of the people who feeds them gossip is."

Daphne was surprised by Kendra's comment.

" _You're_ someone who's been there? Mother, when…"

"Oh, you bet," Kendra said with a groan. "Your grandmother Davis was mortified. According to her, no one from the Davis family had ever brought down my kind of calumny on the rest of them."

"Mother, I can't imagine…what did you do?"

"We were seen having breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron, me in a kind of short, clubby dress, and your father in a most handsome tuxedo. We'd attended an engagement party that went past midnight, then he took me dancing for a couple of hours, then some strolling and couple-talk down a few quiet streets, and then it was almost six a.m. So, what do you do when you're a young witch and wizard in London and it's six a.m. and you don't want to go home?"

"Logic would dictate, you get breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron?" Daphne proposed.

"And the follow-on is someone surmised that we'd gone to a party, then straight back upstairs to our Leaky Cauldron den of vice and iniquity, where your father had his way with me, and _then_ , your father was gentleman enough to buy me a Breakfast of Shame," Kendra summarized. "The Prophet got to Mother before I did.

"When I got home, Mother was sitting at her breakfast table, tea cup in one hand, the Daily Prophet in the other, one of those awful cigarettes she smoked stuck in that enchanted holder, clenched in her teeth. She made a huge production of putting her tea cup on the saucer, taking her cigarette holder in hand, and using it as a pointer, poking at this very page of the Prophet, and she said, 'Never, ever, has a Davis witch allowed herself to be portrayed as a floozy in the press.' And there I stood, in my cute little clubby dress, carrying my clubby shoes in my hand. I was shocked and hurt at first, but that was over right away, and I looked at her and started laughing. Floozy?"

By this time, the mental picture of her grandmother chastising her mother was too much, and Daphne laughed out loud.

"Wattles?" Daphne asked.

"If she had shaken them any harder they could have flown off and lived independently, as I recall," Kendra reported.

By now, Daphne was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, Mother," she said. "I just can't picture you as a wild woman. I wonder how Grandmother could? Even with you standing in front of her, carrying your shoes?"

"Different perspectives, age versus youth. It was a good lesson for me, though, and I always thought of that moment after you and Astoria came along, because I never wanted to become the mother who reads a blind item in the Daily Prophet and jumps to a conclusion," Kendra said. "Of course, you've only given me this one chance, so far. How am I doing?"

"You're doing great, as always," Daphne said.

"Thanks. Don't worry about it, is my point. If a couple having dinner and conversation is the most risqué thing to report, the other ninety-nine percent of their lives must really be above reproach," said Kendra.

"Mother, I did have a question, something that came up last night," Daphne said. "Harry and I were talking about Astoria and Draco and engagement announcements and parties, and I mentioned all the magical venues will be booked until after the New Year parties are over, and Harry suggested he and I host one for them at Grimmauld Place. If everyone, including Madame Walburga, thinks it a good idea.

"Everything would have to click, of course. Draco and Astoria would have to be for it, and you and Father, Lucius and Narcissa. The number of invitees would have to fit the house, which I think would work if we didn't go over one hundred."

"We'll have to ask Astoria. She needs to see it to get some understanding of what it is. It certainly would be unique this season, wouldn't it?" Kendra said. "I expect Narcissa would be strongly in favor. If I'm right, Draco and Lucius will comply with her wishes.

"Do you know what piqued Harry's interest in hosting an engagement party?"

"Harry became very close to Sirius after Sirius got out of Azkaban. Just as they were getting to spend some time together, Sirius was killed. Harry is keenly interested in doing whatever he can for the remaining Blacks, I think as a kind of memorial to Sirius," Daphne said. "Walburga also chimed in. Apparently, she advised Harry to do whatever it takes to keep the two of us together. Which makes me think hosting her grand-nephew and his fiancée at a family celebration might be something she'd like us to do."

"Daphne, that's a wonderful idea, and you're doing it for all the right reasons," Kendra said. "Whether Astoria wants to go that way or not, she'll love the fact that you and Harry are thinking of her and Draco and want to put yourselves out for them."

"She'll get a chance to see #12 tonight. Maybe I should make introductions with Walburga," Daphne continued.

"Of course," Kendra said. "Madame Walburga won't be shy about expressing her feelings."

"Right then, Astoria meets Madame and we pitch her and Draco on an engagement party. I wonder if wizards have as much fun as witches? What could they possibly do to match this?" Daphne asked.

"Now, is there anything I can do for you? Trix and I are going to have to decamp for Grimmauld Place. Then we'll see you in the atrium at St. Mungo's. I'm going to be there a little early. Harry has been informed," Daphne said. "We'll get him almost ready to walk out the door, then he can be Trix' apprentice for as long as it takes to make me Maximum Daphne."

"Well-thought-out, dear," Kendra said, with a wink. "Just remember there will be susceptible wizards in a confined space. You don't want to set off any fireworks."

"Trix," Daphne called out.

"Here, Miss Daphne," said the little elf.

"Ready to go?"

"Of course, Miss Daphne, Trix has been ready all week."

"Mother," Daphne said, kissing Kendra's cheek. She walked to the fireplace, dropped a pinch of floo powder and said, "Grimmauld Place," and with a WHOOSH was gone.

Harry heard a whooshing sound coming from Daphne's study. He was about to knock on the door when it opened. Daphne saw him on the threshold and put her arm around Harry's neck. She pulled his head to her, none too gently, and kissed him hard on the lips, pulling off with a definite SMACK. Looking into his startled eyes she said,

"Thank you for the study, Potter. It just struck me, I've got my own, private, King's Cross Station. Not bad for an innocent little country witch."

Harry looked back at Daphne, and brushed a little soot off her cheek.

"Uhh…Use it lots," he said, after he'd caught his breath. "If you let me know you're coming, I'll be right here to greet you."

"Oh, shall we make this a precedent, then?" Daphne asked, with a bit of a leer. "I'd like that, but first, we need to find Trix. Did you hear a little 'pop?'"

"Trix is here," said a voice from the salon. Trix stepped into the hall, a small bag in hand.

"Kreacher, can I see you in the hall?" called Daphne.

"Kreacher is here, Miss Daphne," said Kreacher, apparating with a 'pop.'

"Trix, may I present Kreacher? Kreacher, this is Trix. Trix, Kreacher is the house elf of #12 Grimmauld Place. He has been very helpful to Master Harry and to me. He actually fought at Master Harry's side at the Battle of Hogwarts. I'm sure you will be on the best of terms. Kreacher, Trix will be here from time to time to help me with certain things. Trix has done my hair since I was a little girl, something I'm sure you would not like to take on. I hope that we can count on you to make Trix feel welcome when she is at Grimmauld Place," Daphne said, introducing the elves.

There was a chorus of "Yes, yes, of course," and "So honored," and some "Pleased to meet you's" and a final "Welcome to #12 Grimmauld Place, Trix," from Kreacher, accompanying a slight inclination of his head.

Harry remembered his rocky early encounters with Kreacher, when the elf was filled with negative feelings towards Harry and literally everyone Harry knew. He was still marveling at Daphne's effortless mastery of the situation when she spoke up.

"Harry? Can we go upstairs?"

"Of course," Harry replied, following her to the stairs.

"Let's take inventory," Daphne said. "We've still got time for late adjustments, if something is missing."

"Right. Very organized," Harry said.

Daphne led the way into the master suite, where both she and Harry had had Kreacher place their formal clothing.

"Right, then, Harry, what have you got?" Daphne asked.

"Robe. Dress trousers. Dress shirt. Cumberbund. Black tie. Socks and underwear. Dress shoes. Gloves. Baton," Harry said, ticking off his mental list.

"Baton? What kind of baton are we talking about?" asked Daphne, more than a bit puzzled.

Harry picked up his baton from where it lay on top of a dresser. He held it out to Daphne.

"This kind," Harry said. "As Head Auror, I am entitled to carry a baton. They only come out for this kind of thing. Kingsley gave me his, on condition I carry it tonight, along with his wish that I have someone I want to present it to, when the time comes."

"Very impressive, Harry. Does anyone besides the Head Auror get to carry one?" Daphne asked.

"You know, I'm not sure," Harry said. "Maybe a former Head Auror could. I hadn't given batons a thought, until Kingsley brought me in his office a couple of days ago and gave me this one. Anyway, I'm kind of looking forward to carrying it tonight. He explicitly asked me to carry it to represent the ministry, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Auror's Office. So, that's what I'm going to do."

"Stand over there," Daphne said, pointing.

Harry took a couple of steps in the direction Daphne indicated.

"Okay, turn right," directed Daphne.

"Now left. Let me see your profile."

Harry stood as he was told.

"Harry, don't be offended, but I'm going to make a suggestion," Daphne said. "Your baton is very impressive, but when you let it dangle like that, it looks funny. Try keeping it in your grasp, or tuck it under your arm. Then you'll look like a muggle field marshal."

"Great, that's always been one of my career goals," Harry said. "What have you got to look over?"

"Girly things of no interest to you. Gown. Grandmother Davis' second-best pearls. Shoes. Gloves. Cape," said Daphne. "Did I leave anything out? No, doesn't look like it.

"Now, I'm going to take over the bathroom for an hour or so. Then Trix and I will get out of your way. I'd like for us to converge, fully dressed, no later than six. If you can't wait until the ball to eat, I'd suggest you fortify yourself now."

"That's simple enough," Harry said. "I did just think of something. I asked Madame Walburga if she'd like to move to your study, now that the young Walburga has taken up residence with the Slytherins. I told her you two could decide together. Hope that's okay."

"Of course it is, Harry. You're Lord Black. You make your wishes known, we give you what you ask for. Unless, of course, I have to let you know otherwise. For your own good. Now, if you would please scoot?" Daphne said, with a smile.

Harry departed for his dojo via the small room off the master. He had begun keeping his workout clothing there, as it made a convenient place to change. He entered the dojo and bowed.

"I have forty-five minutes to exercise, so let's keep the pace up," he said. Two mannequins materialized, casting simultaneously, almost as soon as they appeared.

Later, Harry knocked on the master bedroom door. His workout and cool-down had taken up an hour, and Daphne's time in the bath was, in theory, up.

"Come in," Daphne said.

Harry entered to find Daphne and Trix in the small room off the bedroom. Daphne was in a bathrobe, sitting before a large wall mirror, on a wooden stool, with Trix standing on a somewhat taller stool, gently brushing Daphne's hair. Harry had not seen the stools or the mirror before, so he guessed either Daphne, or Trix, had conjured them for hairdressing purposes. Some athletic gear of Harry's had been put on a shelf, neatly folded.

"Oh," said Harry, looking about.

"Yes?" Daphne responded, using the mirror to look back over her shoulder.

"Thanks for putting those in some order," Harry said, nodding toward his athletic gear. "I like the room. It smells so…fresh and clean."

"That's me, Harry," Daphne said. "But Trix did use a freshening charm on those sweaty rags, pending a thorough laundering."

"The room looks nice, anyway," Harry said. "I've never known exactly what it was for, so, it kind of became my locker room."

"Really?" Daphne asked. "You really don't know what it's for? Next to the master bedroom with this commodious bathroom right here?"

"Nope," Harry said.

"Well, we can use if for whatever purpose it suits, locker room, hair salon, and so on, but this is the baby's room, if the house is lucky enough to have one. Mother and Father are right there, the bath is handy for cleanups, baby is happy," Daphne explained.

Harry stood there looking at her.

"Trix, could I have a minute with Miss Daphne?" Harry said.

The little elf snapped her fingers and disapparated. Harry stood next to Daphne, and gently brought her head to his chest.

"I hadn't really thought of that," he said. "You're putting ideas in my head. Wouldn't that be something?"

Daphne moved her head slightly back.

"You're not thinking of getting started right now, are you?" she asked.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm all sweaty, aren't I?" Harry asked with a slightly embarrassed laugh, and stepped back some more.

"Sweaty is good, Harry," said Daphne, "very good, normally. My only suggestion is we work together on the timing."

"Right. This will have to do for now," Harry said, bending, then kissing Daphne on the lips. Daphne stood up, keeping contact, and grasped Harry's sweatshirt, pulling him closer.

"Yes. Yes, it will do, quite nicely," said Daphne, after they pulled apart. "Now, you go get presentable enough for me to take to my place of work, and Trix will get busy on my hair following this delightful interruption."

By five-thirty, Harry was standing in front of a mirror tying a bow tie, and Trix was finishing putting Daphne's hair into its final form. By five-fifty, Harry was sitting in the first floor salon, thinking over his formal wear inventory while he waited for Daphne to come downstairs. Gloves in one of Madame Malkin's inside pockets, cufflinks in cuffs, wand in the special wand pocket…

Harry heard the stair creak and got up to look around the corner. He reminded himself to keep breathing as he watched Daphne come down. She was dressed in an emerald green gown, matching shoes, and a black silk cape with an emerald lining. She carried a pair of long gloves, and a little clutch, in her left hand, and managed her gown's skirt with her right. Harry saw Grandmother Davis' second-best pearls were three strands, with a hint of smoke in their coloration and a matching pair of pearl pendant earrings.

"Healer Daphne," Harry said, offering his hand.

"Head Auror," said Daphne, taking it.

"You are stunning."

"Oh, Harry, you noticed!" Daphne said. "I'm so glad, because I went to all the trouble just for you. Do you mind if we take our leave of Madame Walburga? She's kind of old-fashioned and my guess is she would appreciate the gesture."

"Why not?" Harry said, pulling his gloves from his inside pocket. "Kreacher!"

"Kreacher is here, Master Harry," said the elf.

"Kreacher, we'll be leaving shortly, and protocol requires we take our leave of Madame Black, if you could remove the drape from her portrait."

"Of course, Master Harry," said Kreacher, bringing his stool into the hall.

"Madame Black," Harry said, touching his forehead with his baton, in salute.

"Madame Black," Daphne said, curtsying. "I am taking this gentleman to St. Mungo's Ball this evening, to inaugurate Wizarding London's holiday season. We will be coming back with some friends for some conversation and refreshments. Thank you for all your help and assistance."

Walburga looked down her nose, sizing them up.

"Oh, dear," she said. "Kendra's daughter taking up with Harry Potter. Well, if it has come to this, Potter, even I have to admit you appear to have grown into proper adult form. I hope you enjoy being Lord Black. Is there anything I can do for your lordship?"

"Yes, there is something. It may be hard, but Teddy Lupin is my godson. Andromeda is his grandmother. I would like to see the tapestry repaired. If an occasion arises for the Black family to gather here in the house, I want to be able to invite Andromeda and Teddy and assure them they are welcome."

"POTTER!" screamed Walburga. "What are you thinking? Andromeda turned her back on her family when she married Ted Tonks. She deserved to be blasted from our tapestry."

"Madame, I am on my way to represent the you and the Black family at the St. Mungo's Ball. Although I didn't seek it, I accept the responsibility of looking out for our common interests. That includes representing the whole family, every single surviving member. With Daphne's help, I will do my best to bring credit to our house. What's in the past needs to stay there. Narcissa and Andromeda deserve to be reconciled at this point in their lives. You asked what you can do. All I ask is that you please give my thoughts your full consideration.

"Now, Healer Daphne and I have to depart. By your leave, Madame," Harry said, saluting the portrait with his baton.

"M'lud," said Walburga, with a sigh.


	8. Chapter 8

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Eight

The St. Mungo's Ball, Where Harry Does Well, For a Non-Society Ball Type

Harry and Daphne stepped onto the front step of #12 Grimmauld Place, and disapparated, apparating on the roof of St. Mungo's with a double 'pop.' Daphne looked at Harry. Harry looked back.

"What?" Harry asked as they walked toward the double doors.

"There's a muggle saying, you may have heard: 'Pushing all the right buttons.'" Daphne said as they reached the roof lobby.

"Think she'll do it?" Harry asked.

The lift doors opened, and Harry and Daphne entered. Daphne pivoted right, then left, using the mirror on the back of the lift to gauge her appearance.

"You're perfect, even the hair," Harry said. Daphne gave him a smile as she pulled on a long glove. "So, will she?"

"If I were a betting woman, I would put my money on you, Harry," Daphne said. "Walburga sincerely wants the Blacks put back on track. Her sons are gone. You kept the house, when anyone else would have sold it and taken a vacation with the money. If that had happened, the Blacks would already be forgotten. You're accepting your responsibilities with grace and good humor. You're making the difficult decisions, as head of the family, even though it isn't your family, strictly speaking. When she called you 'M'lud' I thought, 'He's got her!'

"We'll have to see what happens, but I believe you've won her over. You made a decision as Lord Black that she couldn't have made. Even if her heart wanted to, her old prejudices would get in the way. This way she's complying with the wishes of the head of the family, who has overruled her," Daphne said. "We'll see, one way or the other.

"Now, where we're going and why we're here early. This is the lobby, and there is Neville. There's Hannah. And there is Augusta, with Fabio and Kendra. We're going to get back in the lift and go up to the mental maladies ward, where we'll see if Frank and Alice Longbottom would like to see some visitors.

"Hi, everyone," Daphne said, addressing the group. "Before we go up, thanks to everyone for making the effort. I hope Frank and Alice will be happy to see us all. I'd like to go in with Neville and Lady Augusta first, and we'll see how the Longbottoms do, then Hannah? Then you three if they tolerate the excitement," indicating Fabio, Kendra and Harry.

Getting out of the lift, Daphne indicated some chairs near the nurses' station. She spoke to the nurse on duty and led Neville and his grandmother into a room. After a few minutes, the door opened and she motioned for Hannah to join them inside.

"Oh, I hope this goes well," Kendra said. "Frank and Alice have suffered so much."

Daphne came out of the room, closing the door behind her. She whispered a few words to the nurse, then rejoined the group.

"We'll give them a few minutes. They're used to Neville and Hannah and Augusta, of course. We just don't want to get them over-excited."

"Father, did you hear about our trip to Potter Manor?" Daphne asked.

"Yes!" said Fabio. "Your mother said she found the gardens in need of some attention. Fruit trees look okay?"

"They're there, probably need a visit from an arborist," Daphne said. "Mother, are you ready?"

Kendra and Daphne stood, and left for the Longbottoms' room.

"How did the place look?" Fabio asked, turning to Harry.

"It is an incredible site for a house," Harry said. "It felt oddly familiar, which Daphne said could have come from early impressions, even if I don't have actual memories.

"I need to find out what else goes with it. Gringott's goblins said there is farmland that is rented. I don't know how much."

"I remember one place," Fabio said. "It's been thirty years, but there was a building that had been a mill, a fairly easy walk from the manor. The mill was decommissioned and the place was a house. I believe it was stone walls, and a slate roof. No idea how old it was. Which of the goblins told you about it?"

"Whetstone is the head of the trust department, and he is supposed to be my contact for the property," Harry said.

"Well, if you can get an up-to-date magical survey or abstract, or both, I'd be happy to go with you and look around. Whetstone ought to be able to provide those. It would be helpful to have someone, or some goblin, as the case may be, who is familiar with the property. That's not necessary for us to go, of course."

Daphne came out of the room and sat in the seat next to Harry.

"They're doing very well. Both of them are asking questions about Neville's robe and Hannah's gown. Alice hugged Mother and called her Kendra. I'm not positive they understand about the ball, but that's fine. Let's try one more. Father? Why don't you come in and see if Frank wants to chat?"

Harry was alone, and picked up a copy of Transfiguration Today that was on the seat of a chair two or three places over. He looked at the Contents, and thought about turning to Page 12, _This Month's Debate: Programming Muggle Computers to Cast—Anathema or Merely Highly Dangerous_?

Then another article caught his eye: "The Lynx—Why So Rare Among the Animagi?" The author, he noted, was anonymous, denoted only by initials: DG.

Daphne came out and sat next to Harry.

"You don't have to, but you're welcome to come in. It won't be more than two or three minutes and we'll start good-byes. We all have to get back downstairs," Daphne told him.

"Alice and Frank Longbottom were aurors," Harry said. "I have to go see them."

Harry stood and folded the small magazine, reaching inside his robe and slipping it into one of the inside pockets. Harry let Daphne lead the way to the Longbottoms' door. Neville turned around and watched them enter.

"Mum, Dad, do you remember Harry Potter?" Neville asked. Both of his parents looked toward Harry and Daphne.

For a moment, Alice looked like she wanted to cry. Harry gathered from her intense gaze that she was focused on his eyes, which wasn't surprising, since she had been friends with Lily.

"What's this?" Frank asked, pointing at the baton in Harry's left hand.

"I'm the Head Auror," Harry said, raising his hand, so Frank could have a better view, "and I've come to check on the welfare of some of my people."

Frank thought that was funny, and started to laugh. Harry laughed along with him.

"You're a baby!" Frank exclaimed. "Are you any good at fighting?"

Neville, Hannah and Daphne all looked at Harry, expectantly.

"I _was_ a baby," Harry said, "then I grew up. They tell me I fight well enough. Do you remember your forms from training?"

"Of course," Frank said.

"Let's see," said Harry. He moved away from the bed to an open space in the middle of the room. He threw back his robe and stood, waiting, fists on his hips.

Frank assumed the first position, took a deep breath, raised his arm as if he held a wand, and went through a ten-count series of dueling moves.

"Good," Harry said. "Let's knock the rust off, shall we?"

Harry took up a position opposite Frank.

"The same form, with some snap! Sound off the positions, Neville."

Neville chanted the count while Harry and Frank went through their forms.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked Frank.

"Great!" Frank said.

"Neville is rusty," Harry said. "Too much gardening and slinging hash at the Leaky Cauldron. I'll count, Frank leads. Take my place, Neville," he more or less ordered.

Neville took Harry's place, wearing his dress robe, while Harry drilled Neville and Frank. Harry glanced at Alice, who looked rapturous, seeing her son and husband practicing their aurors' forms.

"Great, both of you," Harry said, "Is this fun, or what?"

Alice clapped her hands. Even normally-reserved Augusta joined in.

"Colleagues, I have to go down and represent our office, by request of the Minister for Magic. Nothing would please me more than to stay here and work out, but Healer Daphne didn't get all dressed up to watch me practice forms. I'm sure you understand."

He walked over and shook Frank's hand. "Get well soon, auror, keep up the good work" he said.

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir," Frank replied.

"Get well soon," Harry said, taking Alice' hand.

Alice held Harry's hand in both of hers and looked into Harry's eyes.

"I see Lily," she said.

Harry took her hand and put it flat on the center of his chest.

"Of course you do. She's right here," he said, smiling. Off to the side, Kendra was leaning a little into Fabio, dabbing her eyes.

Harry walked to the door. "See you all soon," he said, lifting his baton.

Back on a chair near the nurses' station, Harry pulled Transfiguration Today out of his inside pocket. Opening it, he found the article on animagi and carefully removed those pages from the magazine. He folded the sheets twice, placed the magazine back on the chair, and the pages in one of Madame Malkin's inside pockets. One by one, Alice and Frank's visitors came out of their room, until only Neville remained inside.

When Neville rejoined them, the group proceeded down the hall to the lift. Daphne took the lead, as she was their only accomplished navigator of St. Mungo's mysterious maze of corridors and stairwells. Harry had ended up, by chance, at the tail end of the little group. Neville looked around, saw Harry, and dropped back to join him.

"Dad is going to be a problem, Harry," Neville said.

"Meaning?"

"He told me the Head Auror came to see him, and the Head Auror wants him back at work. I told him I was right there and didn't hear anything of the sort," said Neville, "but he seems convinced."

"Healer Daphne has to sign off. I heard she is tough. If she were to give them a little slack in their tethers, for therapeutic purposes, of course…" Harry let his sentence trail off.

"Field trip?" Neville filled in. Harry squinted, as if he were trying to bring something in the distance into focus.

"Find out from your grandmother if there is a destination where we could take them that wouldn't bring back bad memories. Longbottom Manor, or some little coastal holiday hotel. We'll put him in a suit and walk along the Corniche, let him imbibe some of the atmosphere. He's probably breathing too much hospital air. He's a man of action. He can't get his vital nutrients from these surroundings," Harry said. "Meanwhile, I'll let his attending Healer come up with the idea, on her own, of course."

Daphne delivered her charges to the hospital atrium. Finding the entrance to the cafeteria, the night's ballroom, would not have been difficult. All one needed to do was follow the line of people waiting to be announced by the ministry herald so they could pass through the receiving line and head to one of several bars dotted around the periphery.

"There's Astoria, and Draco," Kendra said, waving.

Hannah noticed Augusta Longbottom was reaching into her purse for something, finally pulling out an envelope with an engraved card protruding from it.

"Are you staying, Grandmother Longbottom?" Hannah asked. "I didn't realize…Neville! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know," Neville said. "Gran, if I'd known…"

"What?" Augusta asked. "You'd have had me at the children's table with all of you? Watch, maybe you'll learn something."

With that, the old lady broke from the group and headed straight for the front of the line, passed it, and walked in the door. The last anyone saw of her, she appeared to be heading directly to the receiving line.

Harry looked at Neville, who shrugged.

"Guess we'll find out," Neville said.

The line moved quickly and in a short time, three of the four couples had been announced by the herald and passed through the receiving line. Then it was Daphne and Harry's turn.

"Healer Daphne Greengrass," the herald intoned. "Accompanied by Harry Potter, Lord Potter-Black, Head Auror, Order of Merlin."

By the time they had shaken all the hands, and Harry had shown Kingsley Shacklebolt that he had, indeed, brought the baton along, the ballroom had become silent. They had walked a few steps past the end of the receiving line when the silence became apparent, and Harry slowed and looked around.

"Odd," he thought, and turned his head toward Daphne.

"Bravo!" came a shout. Harry looked to see who it was, and recognized three aurors standing in a group of six people a short distance off. The three, two men and one woman, began applauding, along with their companions. Harry gave them a smile.

"Aurors," he said, as he looked back. By this time the ballroom was on its feet, everyone applauding. Harry, with Daphne on his left arm, raised his right, with the baton, in a wave to his colleagues. He was barely aware of the clicking of shutters.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked Daphne.

"Await the inevitable letdown," she said. "which should be announced any second."

Harry flinched.

"Ouch," he said. "What did I do?"

Daphne still had her arms wrapped around Harry's, so she gave his bicep a squeeze and leaned her head a little closer to his.

"Don't be silly, Harry. You didn't do anything. I encouraged you to use your string of honorifics. You used to ride a Firebolt, as I recall," Daphne said.

"Still do," Harry observed.

"Just hang on, then," Daphne said. "Enjoy the ride. You've conquered the Arctic and thawed out the Queen, Harry. There are people in this room who never thought they'd see that happen. Parade me around and flaunt me a bit. The smaller dogs will benefit from seeing a really big dog in action. I'll be fawning over you from time to time, so don't give away the game.

"See that clump of Slytherins over there? Steer me that way, and you take the lead. I'll be over here, decorating your arm. I need to do some field observations of you, at close range. I'm deficient in some crucial knowledge."

Harry was in luck, because one of the Slytherins was Tracey Davis, Daphne's cousin. He wouldn't have said he knew Tracey well, but at least they'd spoken a few civil words from time to time.

Despite the passing of eleven years since Britain's wizards had chosen up sides, and Harry had dashed one side's hopes of power, wealth and glory, some of the families who'd embraced the Dark hadn't really put the conflict behind them. Those families, like the Blacks, often had an imbalance of Slytherins.

"Tracey," said Harry, "we'd heard we would be seeing you. Daphne wouldn't stop talking about it. Everyone…"

Harry nodded to the group. He recognized a Nott, a Mulciber, and someone who looked like an older Gregory Goyle. He wondered what configuration of circumstances would have brought a Goyle to a charity ball, a do-gooding proposition totally at odds with the Goyle clan's ethic of dullard bad temperament.

Daphne freed an arm and wrapped it around Tracey. The two performed perfect air kisses, first one cheek, then the other, keeping a few millimeters of air between them so as not to smudge their perfect makeup. Daphne held on to Harry's upper arm with one hand, her other arm stayed wrapped around Tracey's waist.

"Daphne said you're off to someplace sunny," Harry ventured.

"Tobago, the eastern end," Tracey said. "Just enough breeze off the Atlantic. The temperature doesn't wilt English girls and the mosquitoes can't fly straight. I've met some magical friends there, and they know where all the best musicians are playing. Once or twice a year I need to drink rum and dance until dawn, eat a breakfast of grilled fish and papaya, sleep in a hammock all day, and get up and do it again. Do you like to dance, Harry?"

"I'm not making this up, Tracey, but I promised to ask Daphne to dance this very evening, doing penance for some sin. Forgot what it was," Harry said.

"Daphne, if you don't loan him out, perhaps you'd consider renting him to me?" Tracey asked.

"Tracey, bleaaagh…" said Nott, "are you going to aid and abet him collecting Slytherins, like those titles?"

Harry returned Nott's glare.

"Titles are an accident of birth. I'd much rather have Sirius Black here and have one less title, than live with the knowledge that I failed to keep him safe from his cousin, a Slytherin named Bellatrix Black Lestrange. But life just worked out that way. I sincerely hope your life is working out better than mine, in that regard. Daphne, should we look for a tray of cheese, or crackers, or something? Everyone…" Harry inclined his head to the Slytherins.

Daphne couldn't say anything until they were well clear of the group, but she loosened her grip, slipped her hand around and inside his robe and, thus concealed, gave him a couple of pats to the bum.

That accomplished, she retracted her arm and re-gripped Harry's bicep, which went through an involuntary contraction before relaxing again.

"Oooo…" Daphne said in approval.

"I'd have paid good money to see that, Head Auror. You took on a Slytherin among his peeps and you separated him from the flock and brought him down. You've got some bloodlust inside you, did you know that? Had I not had help staying upright, I believe I might have swooned. And to think, the night is still so young."

"Merlin, you are a meat-eater, after all. You're just partial to an exotic branch of the food group. Draco and Astoria, dead ahead," Harry noted. "Want to chat them up? Draco and I can bask in the combined glow."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Daphne said.

"Yes, you do," said Harry. "Not that I mind in the slightest. You're making hearts flutter. I'm not the only one suffering."

"Don't you go goody-goody on me, Harry Potter. Tonight, I discovered real men carry batons. You've already come very close to making a few of the ladies present forget their manners. It's good Trix convinced me to let her use the emerald nail polish, the better for them to see my claws. I was thinking we'd split up and circulate, to mark more territory, but I'm reassessing."

Harry and Daphne were essentially the same height, but her heels gave her a few inches advantage. Harry looked up and studied her eyes. There was definitely an amber sparkle.

"Well, this afternoon, you enlightened me as to what that little room upstairs is for, and I can't get it out of my head. If that is any comfort," said Harry. He watched the blue-gray Daphne eyes return. He wondered if anyone besides him had ever witnessed her eyes changing color, and whether it was an actual phenomenon, or his imagination.

"Draco. Astoria," Harry said, extending his hand. Draco took it, and they shook. Astoria barely waited for them to drop their hands before taking hold of Harry's robe and pulling him into a hug. Draco and Daphne looked at her with surprised expressions.

"What?" Astoria said, a hint of indignation in her tone. "We're all family, sort of."

That caused Harry and Draco to start laughing, and Daphne said, "Oh, Astoria, the Incorrigible," and gave her sister a hug of her own. Harry thought Draco was watching Astoria with something approaching adoration in his eyes.

Tracey Davis joined them, and the ladies instantly formed a triangle that, consciously or not, excluded Harry and Draco.

"What's going on with you two?" Harry asked, stepping back from the trio. "Daphne says updates are few, and sketchy."

"Daphne generally has accurate information," said Draco, just a hint of rue in his tone. "If it were up to me, we'd come down to the registry at the ministry, swear to love and cherish, sign the book, and start the marital bliss. I've learned the meaning of the phrase 'Mad for you,' I don't mind saying. I've actually cooked and cleaned for her. I know nothing about either, but she looked at me like I'd invented gold or something. When she looked at me like that, I knew. I don't understand any of it."

"What's to understand?" Harry asked. "It sounds simple enough to me—you're in love with her. Not that I'm an expert. The best you could say for me is I'm tentatively fifty-fifty in that department."

Draco gave a little chuckle. "Potter. You're always so damn funny. Especially when you don't mean to be. Mother and Astoria know what they want. I want to give Astoria whatever that is. That means arrangements. A precisely choreographed series of…of…stuff. There's a party for this, and a luncheon for that. Witch luncheons! Whatever they want, I want to give them."

"It sounds like Astoria won't have mother-in-law problems," said Harry.

"Mother really wanted me to have a sister. That didn't happen, so I've got an idea Astoria fits a niche that has lain dormant and is now activated. Plus, Astoria is an extraordinary witch. You've seen Kendra and Daphne. Believe me, Astoria holds her own. Mother appreciates skilled witches, so they're a good fit."

The group was in a section of the ballroom that wasn't needed for tables, so Harry and Draco had gravitated to some chairs, upon which they sprawled, more or less, while they talked.

"You two are going to be sitting at the same table for two hours, so, what are you doing, sitting on a couple of chairs, talking?" Astoria asked.

"Well…" Draco began.

"Ah-h-h!" Harry offered, acceding to the superior, female wisdom.

Millicent Bulstrode had joined the group while Draco and Harry had been preoccupied with their discussion of love, and engagements. Both stood.

Millicent wore a black cape over a beaded black gown. In her black heels she was around six inches taller than Harry. Millicent had always had a generous frame, but she had no excess showing anywhere, indicating she followed a serious diet and workout regimen.

Millicent radiated presence, in short. It occurred to Harry that of all the professors of Defense Against The Dark Arts that he had known, Millicent Bulstrode was the first one who looked born to the role.

"Millicent…" Harry began.

"So nice to see you this evening," Draco finished for him.

"I understand it is Professor Bulstrode," Harry observed.

"Congratulations are in order, then," Draco concluded.

"Indeed, congratulations on your appointment," Harry said. Daphne had reattached herself to Harry's arm.

"Thank you, Head Auror. I understand you're behind the donation of some updated portraiture for our young witches' foyer. From your family home, I believe?" Millicent asked.

"Mmm…One of them," Harry said. "The credit must go to Daphne, though. She saw an opportunity to help her house, and the young Slytherin witches, and took the necessary steps to accomplish her goal. The very best of the illustrious Slytherin tradition, if I may say so. As a Gryffindor, of course, I recognize that's an area in which I will always be deficient, by comparison. Alas."

"Oh, Potter," Millicent said, "if you only knew when to shut up, you'd be perfect. Now, tell me about that exquisite club in your hand. Do you use it to mete out summary punishments, as the wags are telling me?"

Daphne's grip on Harry's arm tightened. He suspected if he looked he'd see the amber coming out in her eyes, so he cast about for some ameliorating comment that would answer Millicent and soothe Daphne's inner beast. A two-cushion shot, anyone at his level would be expected to have mastered it by now.

"This one, sorry to say, while ebony and silver, is ceremonial, and something of an heirloom. I'm expected to treat it with care so it can be presented to a future Head Auror. Here, check its balance."

Harry rolled the baton over the back of his hand, caught it again, and held the baton out to Millicent on his open hand.

Millicent took the baton, turned it this way and that, twirled it through her fingers. She finished up with a flat spin on her open palm, and extended her arm so Harry could retrieve his baton.

"Fun," she said. "That could become a habit."

"My job can be fun," Harry said, "but a better word is satisfying. If the aurors have to deal with something, ordinary witches and wizards have already been put through more than enough to merit our attention. There is a great deal of satisfaction in being able to get the tiny percentage of trouble makers out of decent magical folks' hair.

"Share that with your students, professor. I hope we can count on our Defense Against The Dark Arts professor to send us her best ."

Daphne's grip loosened, and Harry felt her hand between his shoulder blades. She rubbed his back up and down, slowly, a couple of times, and he hoped he wasn't about to get his bottom patted again, right in front of this crowd.

"How _is_ Madame Walburga enjoying her new location, by the way? Her portrait at the house told us you were very gracious in welcoming her back. Daphne and I both appreciate the gesture, don't we, Daphne?" said Harry.

"We do, Millicent," Daphne said, smiling. "That seemed like the perfect place for Madame, and the late headmaster, distinguished as he is, just didn't seem a good fit for that spot. So thank you for taking the time and welcoming our late matriarch."

"Oh, look," Harry said, before Millicent could respond. "The raffle tickets are on sale."

Everyone turned in the direction Harry was looking. A long table was staffed by several volunteers, who were laying out books of tickets. The table held a large jar filled with slips of paper. A tripod supported a chart with lines and lines of prizes to be won in the night's drawings. The group ambled over and looked at the chart.

"A course in advanced wand lore at Ollivanders,'" Astoria said. "I hope I get that one. Draco, did you want to…"

Harry saw that Draco was already reaching inside his robe, and a moment later was opening a purse made of leather that once belonged to some scaled creature. One of the volunteers was touting the benefit of buying whole books as opposed to single tickets, because a book included bonus tickets, but she could have saved her breath. Draco was paying for multiple books before Harry had finished looking over the list of prizes.

Something near the middle of the chart caught Harry's eye. He removed his wand from Madame Malkin's inside wand pocket, without making too much fuss about it, and added it to the baton he held in his left hand. He used the baton as a pointer as he inspected the prize list. Covering his mouth as he cleared his throat, he finished with a whispered, " _Recordare."_

Harry used the baton, with the wand still gripped alongside, to rake several ticket books toward him and Daphne.

"What do these add up to?" Harry asked the volunteer. He had taken Madame Malkin's suggestion and put some coins in the slots she had provided inside his robe.

"That would be seven galleons, and a sickel, Head Auror," said the volunteer.

Harry looked at the coins in his hand. He had reached in and grabbed galleons, ten of them, and wasn't inclined to quibble about change.

"Here," Harry said, handing over the coins. "Any excess is a donation to the cause."

Harry picked up his ticket books and turned away from the table. He touched the baton to the top book in his stack, and thought _'Imperio.'_

"What did you just do, Potter?" Daphne whispered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry whispered back. "Look, isn't that Rita Skeeter?"

Harry made a little nod toward a woman approaching the raffle table. Harry knew it wasn't Rita Skeeter, but he hoped the mention of the notorious gossip columnist's name would give him some protection from a public interrogation, should Daphne become fixated on Harry's deflection of her question.

"Thirsty? How about a mineral water, or, if you are feeling adventurous, a butterbeer?" Harry asked. "Then I suppose we should locate our table."

Daphne looked into Harry's eyes.

"I considered giving you a swat, Harry Potter, but as a Healer, at the St. Mungo's Ball, well, I expect even Your Thickness sees the contradiction," Daphne advised him, with a little toss of her head. "I don't want a whole butterbeer. The gown, you know. I don't want to be getting that bloated feeling in the middle of dinner. You get one and let me have a couple of sips."

Harry theorized sharing his butterbeer would have the same effect as sipping one of her own, but had the good sense not to advise Daphne of his assessment. He doubted her reluctance was based on anything other than a desire to have both hands free to dispense hugs and hold onto his arm, but, again, wisely kept his speculation to himself.

Harry signaled a passing waiter.

"Butterbeer?" he asked.

"You have your choice sir, of the darker brown ones, large and small," said the waiter.

Harry took a small butterbeer from the tray.

"Thank you very much," he said, offering the glass to Daphne, who took a generous measure and handed it back.

Harry looked toward the dais and saw that Fabio and Kendra had found their table. He noticed that Kendra was bent over, head to head with Hermione Granger. Harry saw a small pouch on the table between them. He speculated that Hermione and Kendra's shared interest in all things related to runes was somehow in play.

Hannah Abbott came up to Harry's right side and gave him a poke in his upper arm.

"Any idea where Neville has wandered off to? It's time we found our table so we're not _those people who always hold things up for everyone else,_ "

Hannah said.

"Not me," Harry said. He turned to Daphne. "Any Neville sightings to report?"

"No, oddly enough," said Daphne. "He's not exactly easily concealable, is he?"

"Barring the use of a shrinking charm, no," Hannah said.

"Don't worry about the table, there sit Fabio and Kendra, so that has to be us," Harry said.

"I saw the Leaky Cauldron made some donations to the raffle," Daphne said. "Thank you, Hannah, that really means a lot for the hospital."

Daphne pulled Hannah into a hug, not worrying about her makeup this time.

"I hope someone we want to see wins," Hannah said with a laugh. "We like to help. You know how much St. Mungo's means to us, to Neville especially. I don't know how we would have taken care of Alice and Frank…"

Hannah started to sniffle.

"Darn. Mascara," she said.

Hannah got control of herself. Daphne drew her wand.

"No problem, Sweetie, just look at me," she said, and when Hannah turned toward her, she waved her wand once past Hannah's face, and whispered something Harry couldn't hear. Hannah's makeup was again perfect.

"What was that?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Daphne pivoted so quickly, it might have looked like she was squaring up for a fight.

"That's not really wizard business, Head Auror. Any further investigation on your part will prove fruitless. Now, Sister Hannah," Daphne said, "Let us locate your big truant, and determine what his atonement shall be. We can't shun him, he brings you too much business. Something subtle, but effective, I think."

Daphne slipped her arm under Hannah's and they strolled off, already lost in conversation, leaving Harry alone. He wasn't unattended for long, though.

"Have you slipped the leash?"

Tracey Davis materialized from somewhere and stood with Harry, watching Daphne and Hannah cross the ballroom.

"No. As a matter of fact, the party that was taking me for a walk just dropped the leash, right where we're standing, and walked off with a witch she called 'Sister Hannah.' I don't know whether I'm supposed to follow at a discreet distance, or treat it as a figurative tethering. Or if there is something else. You're a witch. Is there a witch rule that applies?"

"When Daphne decides you should be back at her side, you should be there. That's pretty much it," Tracey said.

"That is exactly what I was afraid of. I hope she doesn't yell at me again," Harry said.

"Does that bother you?" Tracey sounded a little incredulous.

"The last time, it came from inside my head," Harry answered, with a little, involuntary shudder.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Tracey said. "Look, I can't take you out for a spin as long as you and Daphne are…as you are. We do not poach from each other, ever. But if she ever dumps you, the first owl you will see will be from me, understand? I'm calling dibs. I expect you to remember that if the time ever comes."

Tracey looked at him, and Harry looked back, in something like wonder. Witches! The things he didn't know about witches.

"That's quite a contingency arrangement," Harry said. "Is Daphne aware?"

"Harry," Tracey said with a little sigh in her voice, "Daphne brought it up, so it wouldn't be lurking there just under the surface. We couldn't have that. We have to do too many things together."

"Oh. Well, that's good to know. It wipes out a lot of ambiguity," Harry said. "Thanks for bringing me in. How old were you two when you negotiated this pact?"

"Fourteen," Tracey said.

"Head Auror," Harry heard someone say. He turned and saw Millicent Bulstrode, who was displaying some kind of look on her face. Harry remembered seeing that face on professors, generally when he was about to be informed he'd be doing detention.

"I've just tried to buy a ticket for the raffle, and have been turned down. My information is that the well-known troublemakers, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, bought multiple books of tickets, so that impoverished professors are unable to participate. What do you have to say to that?" Millicent demanded.

"Between us, my name's Harry, Professor" Harry began. He reached in his pocket and retrieved his books of tickets. Harry checked to make sure they were in the same order as they were when he took possession. "You are such a valuable adjunct to the Aurors' Office. What can I do to cultivate relations? Would you accept this book of tickets and my sincere best wishes for good luck? How about you, Tracey?"

Harry handed the top book to Millicent, and pressed the second book down into Tracey's hand. Millicent's expression changed completely.

"I understand you have been back to lecture to the sixth and seventh year Defense students, Harry," Millicent said, emphasizing the 'Harry.'

"I have, and it has worked out well," Harry said. "We do it in the spring, between Easter break and end of term. The students aren't fit for real study by that point anyway, so I talk to the classes about careers, preparation for the selection process, that sort of thing.

"If the weather is good we go down to the quidditch pitch and run through some of our physical fitness drills, full intensity, so they have some idea of what they'll be doing if they choose to apply. If you like getting sweaty, you'd be welcome to run them along with us, of course.

"Then I pay some calls on faculty and staff who remember me. I practically boarded with Madam Pomfrey. Professor MacGonagall, I suppose it goes without saying. It's your call, now, but I'll always make time for you."

Millicent thumbed her ticket book, making a f-r-r-r-r-i-p-p-p-p sound with each stroke.

"That's very generous, Harry," Millicent said. "You'll be hearing from me. Would March be too early?"

"March is about right, actually, gives us both time to plan," Harry said. "Be thinking about what you want, I'll try to give it to you."

Harry looked toward the dais and saw that the minister, hospital director, and chief of staff were all converging on their places, along with their spouses. He noticed that the other dignitaries included Augusta Longbottom, and he wondered what that meant.

The ministry herald passed through the ballroom, carrying a chime, and intoning, "Dinner is about to be served. The Minister for Magic and the Director of St. Mungo's request all guests return to their tables and be seated."


	9. Chapter 9

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Nine

The St. Mungo's Ball, Dancing, and the Ever-Popular Raffle

Harry, Tracey and Millicent joined the slow-moving scrum that began oozing toward the tables. Soon he was seated, with everyone but Daphne and Hannah present. He looked around and saw them coming from the direction of the dais.

Harry leaned toward Neville.

"Are you in trouble?" Harry asked, in a voice just above a whisper.

"Nah. Hannah and I kind of drifted off in different directions, then I got drafted to help retrieve Gran. She was in the kitchen with the elves. Gran goes 'way back with St. Mungo's. Have you met Faye? Gran's one of Faye's favorites. She can't come to St. Mungo's without stopping to see the kitchen elves, which means a plate of whatever they're serving, coffee, tea, anything she wants. The chief of staff found me and asked me to pry her out of the kitchen. They needed her on the dais."

Hannah and Daphne arrived, and Harry and Neville stood to pull out their chairs.

"Head Auror," Daphne offered.

"Healer Daphne, a pleasure," Harry responded. "We are all here."

"Yes." Daphne stated. "Indeed. Luckily, Miss Abbott and I managed to find our way, without assistance."

She placed her elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers, giving Harry an appraising look.

"Been busy?" Daphne asked.

"I worked the crowd, a bit," Harry admitted. "I got some fascinating insights as the result of a casual conversation. Odd how one can learn new things, just by listening.

"Also established a formal communications channel with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Considering the critical importance of recruitment to the Aurors' Office, that alone was justification for attending tonight. Lunch at Greengrass Manor a week ago may turn out to be the most fortuitous event of my year. I don't even know what we're having tonight. Do we get a choice?"

"You're having a salad," Daphne said.

Harry's face must have betrayed a little disappointment, because Daphne's lower lip suddenly trembled, and her studiedly-neutral mask cracked, and she broke into a dazzling smile. She leaned toward Harry.

"To start. Then you're getting the braised sirloin, grilled cauliflower, baked potato, and choice of dessert. There are tarts, chocolate cake, and several fruit sorbets."

"They've got nap time scheduled between dinner and the awards, I trust?" Harry asked, picking up the program.

"One of the aurors volunteered to sit next to you and give you a firm poke in the ribs, as needed," Daphne said. "Now, are you going to tell me what you did with those raffle tickets, or will I be distracted throughout dinner thinking about how I will manipulate you psychologically, until I get my way and you tell me?"

Harry thought it over. He leaned toward Daphne and put his hand over hers. Summoning all his sincerity, he looked in her eyes and said,

"There might be more surprises, if you're patient."

Food started arriving, salads, main dishes, bottles of wine. The St. Mungo's kitchen elves were practiced and efficient, serving and clearing in a blur. Fabio and Neville got into a long, technically-involved conversation, on varieties of crab apples and their various properties, that no one else could follow.

The rest of the table left them alone and pondered other mysteries. Hannah and Astoria started with stationery, moved on to silver patterns, crystal and china. Between courses, witches came in ones and twos to speak to Kendra, who held hands, touched arms, and patted shoulders, sending her callers away with smiles.

Harry caught Daphne's eye, and looked toward Kendra, and back to Daphne. Daphne looked back. She gave her head a tiny shake, back and forth.

Daphne found something on the table between herself and Harry, picked up the little paper napkin under her water glass, and leaned over to dab at the spot.

"Later," she whispered.

Harry skipped the chocolate cake and ordered sorbet for dessert, earning him an approving smile from Daphne. The elves cleared the tables afterwards, followed by another wave dressed in white jackets, equipped with silver-handled elf-sized whisks and small silver crumb pans, who soon had each table as pristine as it had been at the start of the banquet.

The chief of staff was the master of ceremonies. He welcomed everyone to St. Mungo's, introduced the hospital director and the Minister for Magic and their spouses, followed by the other dignitaries on the dais.

Awards were given for outstanding performance, years of service, and the usual clutch of recognizable events. Harry followed most of the introductions and reading of citations, and joined in the applause when appropriate. As the droning went on, Harry grew grateful for the pain in his backside and thighs, as he feared his fugue state presaged dropping off to sleep, at the worst possible moment.

He was vaguely aware of the director reading something-something, blah-blah-blah, promotion, and sat upright.

"In the department of mental maladies, introducing our new Chief of Service, Healer Daphne Greengrass!"

Daphne stood up, mouthed "Thank you," at the director, then turned and acknowledged the ballroom. Hannah and Neville were applauding wildly, Kendra looked like she was about to tear up, and Astoria was making a heart sign with her hands. Harry joined in the applause, and beamed up at Daphne. When she sat down, he put an arm around her shoulders and said, "Congratulations, well-done!"

The director then introduced Kingsley once again, who announced the award of a St. Mungo's Gold Medal for fifty years of voluntary service, including recognition of her raising over one million galleons for the support of the hospital, to Mrs. Augusta Longbottom. The ballroom exploded with applause. The elves had filtered out of the kitchen and now stood packed on the side of the hall nearest Augusta's seat, and they applauded and stamped their bare feet on the parquet floor.

Neville forgot himself, stood up, punched the air, and shouted, "Thataway, Gran!" which, of course, caused the rest of the seated ballroom to stand up and join the ovation.

Augusta made her way to the podium and accepted her award from the minister. Augusta and Kingsley stood holding the plaque with its very large gold medal while magical photographers took pictures.

When things quieted down and Augusta had regained her seat, Kingsley said, "That concludes our awards program, the evening's entertainment will consist of music for dancing, and a series of drawings in the ever-popular St. Mungo's Raffle!"

Elves were snapping fingers all over the ballroom. Rainbow lanterns and candlelit mirror balls descended from the ceiling. Tables and chairs were cleared from the center of the ballroom to make a space for dancing, and a wizard band started playing a popular dance tune.

"I have to move," Harry said. "I'm literally getting cramps. Would you like to dance?"

"I have twenty-eight years of pent-up dancing, Harry. Just so you know," Daphne answered.

Harry took her hand and led Daphne to the dance floor, where they were one of the first few couples to start dancing.

Harry wasn't much of a dancer. What he really enjoyed was holding Daphne and looking at her face in the subdued light. From time to time she would move closer and they'd exchange words.

"What did you do to those tickets, Harry?" Daphne asked. They separated and Harry smiled up at her. Then he moved, as she'd done.

"Wait and see. That's what I'm doing, because I have no idea if it will work or not."

They danced some more. Once the muscles in his legs relaxed, Harry felt much better. Daphne leaned forward again.

"Your girlfriend is here. Did you see her?" she asked.

Harry was pretty sure his girlfriend was holding on to him, as he was to her. His confusion must have shown.

"Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

"No. That's nice," Harry said.

"She looks good," Daphne said.

"She's a professional athlete," Harry shrugged. "Barring an injury…"

Daphne's nostrils flared, but she didn't say anything. Harry and Daphne continued dancing.

"So, you like that athletic look?" Daphne finally asked.

Harry moved his head to get a good look at Daphne's face.

"Daphne, you and Ginny had something like this conversation. I remember it well. She informed me we didn't have a future, and I eventually saw things her way. I wish her the best. No romantic designs on my part."

Daphne didn't look at Harry, so he moved his head to get in her field of vision.

"We had fundamental differences, and she was the adult and saw it, and she helped me see it. Does anything in what I said resonate with your training and clinical experience? Do I have your full confidence, Dr. Greengrass?"

Daphne pulled Harry close and lay her head against his.

"Yes," was all she said, as they continued to sway to the music.

The band started playing a song with a tricky beat. Harry didn't want to attempt dancing to it.

"Want to come meet some aurors?" he asked. "They're right over there."

They crossed to a table just off the dance floor. The three aurors stood up immediately. It turned out the aurors were married to St. Mungo's staffers, so Harry introduced the aurors to Daphne, and she introduced her co-workers to Harry.

"Did you get raffle tickets?" Harry asked. Everyone, it seemed, had sat around talking until it was too late to buy tickets. Harry tucked the baton under his arm, reached in his pocket and pulled out a book. He had enough to give everyone several, and he handed tickets out until his book was finished.

Wishing everyone good luck in the raffle, and taking their leave, Harry and Daphne walked slowly into the scrum of the ballroom.

"Where?" Daphne asked.

"Take me somewhere. Anywhere," Harry said. Daphne led the way around the ballroom, greeting St. Mungo's staff and introducing Harry. Everyone congratulated Daphne on being named Chief of Service. Harry observed Daphne clearly had a following within the St. Mungo organization. There were lots of comments of the "We always knew you have what it takes," and "They could not have picked a better person," variety.

Harry tried, consciously, to let Daphne be out front, and to become her arm décor, but he was still Harry Potter, wearing an Order of Merlin rosette and carrying the Head Auror's baton. Even so, he waited to be called out, and tried hard to push Daphne to the front, and stand by looking on adoringly.

Harry'd had lots of experience being the center of attention, whether he wanted it or not. He had fun strategizing with each new group they joined, seeing if he could make Daphne the star, and himself the supporting cast.

Eventually, they both felt the need for a little time off their feet and returned to their table.

Fabio was off somewhere, but Kendra still sat, receiving a low-key, but steady stream of witches who came by and either sat at an adjoining chair or knelt in front of her. The conversations were short, generally little newsy family bits, how was so-and-so, did your daughter have her baby, boy or girl? Witches came, exchanged a few words, and left, always with a pat, a squeeze or a kiss on the cheek from Kendra.

Millicent spotted Daphne and Harry and sat down next to Daphne.

"Harry?" Millicent said.

"Millicent?" Harry replied.

"One of your tickets was a winner," said Millicent.

"Congratulations!" Harry said. "What did you win?"

"Lunch. With Ginny Weasley, at any London restaurant of my choice," Millicent said.

Daphne visibly flinched, and slowly turned her head toward Harry.

"Really? Daphne can tell you, she and Ginny have a riot at lunch, right, Daphne? Enjoy. I'm sincerely glad you won, Millicent. I must say, it would have been very, very awkward for me if I'd been holding that ticket."

Millicent wasn't saying anything. She clearly wasn't done yet, either.

"I'd feel odd just walking up to her and demanding she take me to lunch," Millicent eventually volunteered, not looking directly at either Daphne or Harry.

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Millicent," Harry noted. "I don't understand."

"It's just, I'm a schoolteacher, and she's a pro athlete, an icon, she's kind of a Valkyrie to some of us, that's…to some of the witches, we all love the Harpies…" Millicent trailed off.

"Of course, Millicent, I get it," Harry said. He turned to Daphne and put his lips right next to her ear.

"Can you invite your friend, Ginny Weasley, to come over here to the table, and meet a fan who's too shy to just walk up to a Harpy? I would, but, it might look funny," he whispered. Daphne looked back, a little confusion showing.

"Please?" Harry added, nodding encouragement.

Daphne got up and crossed the ballroom. Harry and Millicent turned back toward each other.

"Where are you going to make Ginny take you out for lunch?" Harry asked.

"I hadn't gotten that far, yet," Millicent said. "I never win anything! Then I hit the jackpot."

"Isn't that always how it works? Go figure!" Harry said. Harry lowered his voice, leaned over, and said, just for Millicent, "Just never, ever forget, Millicent, if you're going to hang with Ginny Weasley—before she turned seventeen, Ginny faced off with Bellatrix Lestrange—twice—and yet, Ginny's here, and Bellatrix is gone."

Daphne delivered Ginny as Millicent popped up from her chair.

"Hi, I'm Millicent Bulstrode, I was in Harry and Daphne's year," Millicent introduced herself. "Huge fan," Millicent added, in a very gushy giggle that Harry thought sounded most odd, coming from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny said, thrusting her hand forward. "I remember you. We never fought or dueled or anything, did we?"

Millicent shook her head.

Harry looked at the two of them. Millicent had some height on Ginny, but ten years in the hands of professional trainers and nutritionists had Ginny buffed and polished to perfection. She wore a simple, sleeveless, sparkly silver gown, slit from the floor nearly to her hip joint, that left her upper body musculature free to rampage, and Millicent's eyes showed she had noticed. Ginny's skin, as always, was so luminous it seemed to be lit from within. Her long red hair was parted in the middle and pulled together at the nape of her neck in a platinum clasp. She wore a platinum circlet on her head that looked to Harry like goblin work, and a matching platinum armlet pushed up above her perfectly-defined left bicep. Harry was trying to think of the name of the Greek goddess who liked bow hunting when he heard his name.

"Harry," Ginny said, with just a little head shake.

"Ginny," said Harry, nodding, trying for strict neutrality, with just enough warmth, but not too much. Neither offered their hand, nor did they bump cheeks the way parted couples often do, to show neither is harboring hard feelings.

Ginny and Millicent sat down.

"Did Daphne tell you the news?" Harry asked.

"Nope," said Ginny, "what news is that?"

"Millicent got in the raffle, and she won…" Harry gestured for Millicent to take over.

Millicent slid an envelope across the table. On the envelope was printed 'Lunch with Holyhead Harpies Chaser Ginny Weasley at Any London Restaurant.'

"Fantastic!" Ginny exclaimed. "Where are we going?"

"Haven't decided. I wasn't prepared. I never win anything," said Millicent.

"Okay, don't go economy. There's a voucher in there from the team. Take your time. I'm easily found," Ginny said.

The band started in on a new song. Harry recognized it as one with a simple beat, bouncy and easy to dance to, one that often drew singles, couples and undifferentiated groups, clumps of people, no one worrying about partners, just people standing up, dancing.

"I can't sit and listen. Daphne? You two? Come on, everybody, help me take over the dance floor."

They didn't take over the floor, but more people joined, some dropped out, some of those stood on the sidelines and then came back. The arrangement was clearly meant to keep dancers on their feet until the simple joy of movement overtook them.

Harry caught Daphne's eye and looked toward the edge of the crowd. Daphne nodded and they danced their way to a clear path back to their table. Daphne sat down and took off her shoes.

"I haven't figured it all out yet, Potter," Daphne said, "but I know you're involved in that, somehow." She flicked her eyes toward the crowd of dancers, where Ginny and Millicent were still bouncing up and down.

"Maybe," Harry said. "I want to sit and watch what happens. Don't you?"

He gave Daphne a sly, co-conspirator look. She returned it.

"Of course, silly. Don't you want to sit where you can see?"

"No. You're going to tell me whenever there are new developments, so I can be discreet, like a good Head Auror should be."

Ron and Hermione stopped next to the table, and Harry stood up. Hermione took a seat next to Kendra.

"Ron!" Harry said, getting to his feet, "Where've you been?"

"Opposite side of the room," Ron said.

"Get enough to eat?" Harry asked.

"Until we get to your place, maybe," Ron said. "Congratulations, Daphne. We knew you were brilliant. Maybe not just _how_ brilliant."

"Thanks, Ron. Ball's in Hermione's end of the court," Daphne said, with a laugh that wasn't all humor. The two scholar-witches had been keeping an eye on one another since they'd been picked up by older witches in second year, and shown the wonders waiting in the section behind Madame Pince's desk. Different career paths kept them from knocking heads directly, but both had mental scoresheets on which they kept track of their individual achievements, although, they denied the existence of the scoresheets, even to themselves.

Witches kept stopping by, having a few words with Kendra. Kendra, Harry noticed, invariably introduced Hermione first thing. Hermione sat, extending her arm, with the back of her hand up, and the witches would grasp her manicured fingertips and incline their heads. Hermione sent each witch away with a pat on the shoulder, or a squeeze of the forearm. Once, a witch kept her head inclined while Hermione laid her palm on the top of the witch's head, bent forward, and spoke a few words into her ear. Harry made a mental note to keep his mouth shut, and his eyes open. It seemed like he just kept getting lessons in how little he knew about witches.

Millicent and Ginny gravitated back to the table, giggling at some private joke. Harry noticed they had both developed a little sheen on their faces, with some beads showing on their upper lips. Neither had bothered with makeup, it appeared. Ginny picked up a linen napkin from the table and slowly, gently blotted the perspiration on Millicent's face, then did her own. When she was done, she handed the napkin to Millicent, who idly folded it into a small square before palming it, then casually stuffing it into a pocket in her cape.

"Did you know," Millicent said, very sweetly, to Ginny, "that I once pinned your sister-in-law, right in front of a double class of Slytherins and Gryffindors, until Severus Snape saved that cute little butt of hers by pulling me off?"

"Did you? I did not know that," Ginny said, looking at Hermione pretend not to have heard, "but I'm not surprised. I tried to tell her, learning to fly a broom, like a witch does, would be a whole lot more useful than a rock collection. Had she some decent flying skills, LIKE A WITCH, you'd never have gotten your hands on her. But you know, Millicent, it's just impossible not to love her when she gets a little anger fit and stamps her little foot and starts throwing things, the dear. Did she throw her little bag of rocks at you?"

Hermione cracked first.

"Rune stones! They are rune _stones_ , Ginny, and we were supposed to be practicing dueling, not wrestling!"

"Well, pardon me, Hermione. I thought stones _were_ rocks. But, Millicent, good on ya for the creative thinking, then, if the rules don't favor you, change 'em," Ginny said.

"Now, did YOU know, Millicent, I pinned that redheaded husband of hers? Mmm-hmm, oh, I sure did. And I wouldn't let him go until I'd made the little fella tap out."

Millicent and Ginny both laughed through their noses, resulting in a duet of snorts.

"Liar!" said Ron. "Mum tapped me out. I would have let you break my arm before I'd tap out."

"He can't wrestle, but give him credit, he is bull-headed to the point of self-harm," Ginny told Millicent. "A typically… _wizardly_ …combination, I've discovered. Now, Charlie, our BIG brother, can wrestle, can't he, Ron? Oh, the young Ronald used to have such fun watching us, back when he was still trying to learn something. Charlie'd let me tie his hands behind his back, then he'd start out on his knees, and I was supposed to throw him and pin him. It took me until I was ten-and-a-half just to throw him. CHARLIE'S un-pinnable."

"Maybe we could try tag-teaming him," Millicent said. "Ready to dance some more? I like this song."

Ginny and Millicent headed back to the dance floor, finding a space directly in front of the bandstand. Daphne watched them go before leaning over and whispering in Harry's ear:

"They left their shoes here!"

Harry smiled at her.

Harry asked Daphne to dance again. Ron danced with Hermione. Then Harry asked Hermione to dance while Ron danced with Daphne. Fabio and Kendra left, waving from across the room. Daphne blew them a kiss. Harry thought it might be time to get back to Grimmauld Place, since they had guests coming, and took Daphne's hand. As they walked back to the table, the band started a slow ballad that spoke of Spring, love, beautiful witches, then circled back to a big, gushy finish focused on love.

Daphne sat down and looked back at the dance floor.

"They're slow dancing, Harry," Daphne said. "and they aren't moving their feet, just swaying, and smiling, and looking at each other, with their toes touching."

Harry still hadn't looked, relying on Daphne for updates.

"Oh, gosh! Harry, Ginny has one foot on the floor and the other is rubbing Millicent's foot, and Millicent is holding her up, saying something, right in Ginny's ear."

"Footsie, right on the dance floor? You know, you might as well invite them to the afterparty, don't you think?" Harry said. "Ginny knows how to get there. She can bring Millicent."

"Oh, I should invite them, should I?" Daphne flared a bit.

"Yes, _you_ should. It would be awkward for me, and for Ginny. You'll invite them one witch to another, so, no cause for awkwardness there."

Harry finally turned around and looked at Millicent and Ginny.

"They look good together. All you have to do is walk over there, bewitch them both with a Daphne hug, and invite them over. Put some of that Queenly charisma of yours to good use. What if tonight is your Slytherin sister's shot at happiness?"

Daphne looked at Harry, reached over, and touched his cheek with her hand.

"Of course," she said, and got up to take her leave of Millicent, and extend two late invitations to a little afterparty.


	10. Chapter 10

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Ten

Harry Facilitates Happiness, Somehow, and Has Some Explaining To Do

Harry and Daphne apparated onto the front step of #12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher opened the door immediately.

"Welcome home, Master Harry and Chief of Service Healer Daphne, and congratulations," Kreacher said.

"Thank you, Kreacher, you're very kind," Daphne said. She looked at Harry. Harry shook his head slightly. Elves, like the portraits, had their own methods. Harry did not pry.

"I propose to remove my robe and tie," Harry said.

"Cape, shoes and gloves," Daphne said.

"Good, because I don't want to stop looking at you in that gown," said Harry.

"Trix?" Daphne called out.

"Trix is here, Miss Daphne," said the little elf.

Daphne handed her the cape and shoes, and Harry removed his wand and gave Kreacher his robe, stuffing his tie in a trouser pocket. The elves took the clothes upstairs while Daphne and Harry moved to the salon.

"Good time?" Harry asked, laying the baton on a bookshelf. He thought he knew the answer.

"Pffft! Potter!" Daphne scoffed. "I'm the youngest Chief of any service at St. Mungo's since the Black Death, and that group got promoted because everyone else succumbed. I went to see some of my patients, and they responded in a way no one has seen them do in over ten years. My date, the Head Auror, holds the Order of Merlin, First Class, and he carries a baton. He is an imposing physical specimen, and both smart and handsome. I did mention the HEAD AUROR took me to the ball, didn't I? We went to the opening event of the magical London season, sat at a table with my parents, my beautiful sister, and her most photogenic fiancé, and we made Mother and Father very proud and happy. My date's aurors gave us a standing ovation, just for walking in the room. Yeah, I had a good time."

Daphne reached for Harry, just as a series of 'pops' sounded from the front steps.

"We'll just save that," Harry said, as he stood up from his chair.

Ron and Hermione, Neville and Hannah, and Draco and Astoria filed in. Kreacher and Trix took robes and capes to the coat room off the central hall. Those who were familiar with the previous décor in the salon ooohed and ahhhed when they saw the changes. Harry saw that everyone had something to drink, then he caught Daphne off to the side.

"Should we take Astoria and Draco to see Madame?" he asked.

"Now's as good a time as any, I suppose," Daphne said. "Kreacher?"

Kreacher apparated with a "Kreacher is here, Miss Daphne."

"Would it be a good time to make some introductions to Madame Black?" Daphne asked. "My sister Astoria hasn't met her before. Mr. Draco is Madame's grand-nephew, and he will want to pay his respects."

"Kreacher will be happy to speak to Mistress Black," Kreacher said.

Harry and Daphne waited until Kreacher pulled off the drape over the portrait and explained who was waiting to speak to Walburga.

"POTTER!" Walburga said, with her perpetual air of consternation. "And Daphne, my dear, you are so beautiful tonight, so much like Kendra, except the blond hair of course. Did you have a good time at the ball?"

"Madame, it was wonderful. So many wizards and witches, beautiful gowns, handsome robes, I was so proud to represent the House of Black before the Minister for Magic and the cream of British wizardry. Now, I have a young couple I'd like to bring by and introduce. One I think you already know. Is now a good time?"

"Of course, dear, I could wait up all night if you thought it important," said Walburga.

Daphne left to fetch Draco and Astoria, leaving Harry alone with Walburga.

"How did you do, Potter?" Walburga asked.

"I'm not objective, but I can tell you how it went. I wore my Order of Merlin rosette, carried the baton to which I am entitled as Head Auror, and was announced by the ministry herald as Lord Potter-Black, before the Minister of Magic and the usual kinds of people who attend the St. Mungo's Ball. My escort, besides being the most beautiful witch in all of Britain, was named St. Mungo's Chief of Service for mental maladies during the dinner. I hope we brought some credit to our house."

Walburga said nothing, then, "It's a start."

Daphne returned with Draco and Astoria.

"Madame Walburga, may I present my sister, Astoria, also a Slytherin witch, and her intended, Master Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa, and your grand-nephew, I believe."

Astoria curtsied and said, "An honor, Madame."

"Hullo, children, and welcome to #12 Grimmauld Place. Daphne has me up to date on Kendra, but what can you tell me about Narcissa, Draco? It has been such a long time."

"Mother is fine, Aunt Walburga. I'll tell her all about meeting you again. I'm sure she'll be thrilled," Draco said.

"And you've been to the ball?" Walburga asked.

"Yes, we had Astoria's mother and father, Lord and Lady Greengrass, Harry and Daphne, and Mr. Neville Longbottom and Miss Hannah Abbott at our table, right in front of the dais. I believe we attracted some attention. The good kind, of course," said Draco.

The Walburga in the portrait turned to Astoria.

"Astoria, your mother and I go 'way back. You remind me so much of her. You have the look of Slytherin House, dear. You are nobility, and you look it. You and Draco are in love, that shows, too. Come and see me when you visit Daphne, won't you? I'll let you get back to your party, dears, thank you for taking the time."

"Well, thank you very much, Madame Walburga," Daphne said. "We'll let you get some rest."

With that, she shepherded the group away from the portrait, and gave Kreacher a little nod.

"Daphne, one more thing?" Walburga called out. Daphne came back to the portrait.

"We won't bother tonight, but Lord Black mentioned you might want this portrait in place of the small one, that was in the study. If you'd like me in there with you, you can move this one with _wingardium leviosa_ , anytime you're ready."

"Wonderful!" said Daphne. "We'll take care of it tomorrow! Good night."

Another pair of 'pops' rang out just as Kreacher stepped off his stool. He opened the door and saw Ginny Weasley.

"Kreacher!" Ginny said. "Meet Millicent Bulstrode. That's _Professor_ Millicent Bulstrode, of Hogwarts. Millicent, this is Kreacher."

"Welcome, Miss Ginny, it has been far too long," Kreacher said. "Let Kreacher take your capes and hang them in the cloakroom. Master Harry and Miss Daphne are in the salon."

Daphne had gotten back to the hall as Kreacher finished his greeting.

"You came—wonderful!" said Daphne. "Come on in. What can we get you to drink?"

"Mineral water," said Ginny.

"Same, thanks," said Millicent.

Everyone stayed engaged for the next half hour, relating personal experiences of their evening at the St. Mungo's Ball. Ginny spent some time cementing relations with Ron and Hermione, dispensing pats and hugs and kisses and ribald patter until both were back, completely under the spell of the Weasley family's charismatic quidditch star. Kreacher brought a platter of warm pasties and put it on the buffet. Hermione kept count of Ron's consumption, cutting him off after three.

Harry was taking some plates to the kitchen for washing when Ginny caught him in the hall.

"Can I take Millicent on a tour, Harry? She's never been to #12 Grimmauld Place before."

"Sure, take her around, show her the place," Harry said. "Anywhere except the study, that's Daphne's and I don't go in unless she is there. There is a gym in that bedroom next to the master. I put it in. Kind of proud of it, if you want to check it out."

Ginny turned to retrieve Millicent.

"Oh, Ginny," Harry said, keeping his voice down. "You and Millicent are welcome to spend the night. Neville and Hannah are staying. Kreacher will take care of breakfast in the morning. If you decide you want to, take your old room, the one you shared with Hermione, top of the stairs. It has its own bath. Kreacher cleaned it yesterday, beds changed, new soap, towels and washcloths."

Ginny nodded. "Thanks, Harry," she muttered.

Eventually, Draco, Astoria, Ron and Hermione departed #12. Hannah and Neville turned in upstairs. Harry and Daphne checked everything downstairs, looked in on Kreacher, who already had the pots, pans, dishes, glassware and utensils washed and drying in the racks.

Climbing the stairs, Daphne noticed the door to the double room at the top was closed, and a little light was leaking under the gap at the bottom. Soft mutterings were coming through as well. Daphne grabbed Harry by the arm and more or less frog-marched him to the master bedroom. She closed and locked the door, and cast _muffliato._

"You know what you're in here for, Head Auror, so give it up," Daphne said, as if she truly believed she sounded like a tough interrogator.

Harry thought about what he was going to say. There wasn't that much, but he feared he'd get bogged down in details. It involved time travel! Just thinking about it got complicated.

"Okay. Ginny and I broke up. It was inevitable. We knew we had fundamental differences, but we talked and talked and it was never clear why. We couldn't define it, so we couldn't fix it. I just accepted that I was never going to know.

"Then, the night those guys who couldn't fight showed up at Greengrass Manor, I stepped out of our timestream into 1918, where I met a timestream repair specialist named James Potter, and asked him what we were all doing, over in his timestream, and he told me Harry Potter in his timestream got dumped because Ginny and Millicent were together. He also said Millicent was DADA professor at Hogwarts.

"He's also the one who explained timestreams are like traveling companions, similar to one another, but no two are exactly alike. When you swapped the portraits in the Slytherin dormitory, and Walburga told me Millicent was the new Slytherin head of house, as well as Defense professor, I decided, if the chance came along, I'd see how far our similarities went.

"I confess, there is a selfish element. If there was any way it was possible, I had to relieve you of any lingering doubts about Ginny and me. Whenever you showed a little emotion over…if it was going to cause you distress, I was compelled to put it to rest. That, and the loose end of what Ginny's and my fundamental difference was. You're the human behavior expert. Anything you can identify? Anything jump out?"

"Harry Potter," Daphne said. She took several long breaths without saying anything. "Harry…POTTER," she concluded, with a slap to her thigh.

"Did you have a plan, for any of this?"

"Nope," Harry said. "I didn't know either one of them would be there tonight. I didn't know about the lunch prize until I read the list. You caught me, fair and square, trying to enchant the ticket book so Millicent would win the lunch with Ginny Weasley, but I had no idea if it would work or not. I just thought it up on the spot. If I could treat Millicent and Ginny to lunch, I kind of figured they'd sort the rest out for themselves.

"That's why I wouldn't give anything up until I saw how it would turn out. I'd never tried to manipulate a drawing before. I didn't know how I was going to get my ticket book into Millicent's possession, either, then she did that for me when she complained about Draco and me buying all the tickets. If she'd complained to Draco, instead of me…

"My magic is not exquisitely subtle, as you know. It leans toward the crash-and-bang variety. My wand can be a deep thinker, though. You know what it feels like when it really gets interested in something.

"Anyway, that is the surprise. You were patient, so, you qualified for the surprise.

"Now, can I…" Harry got up and crossed the room to Daphne. "I have been watching you with your perfect hair and perfect gown and perfect nails and perfect pearls, all night, and all I can think of right now is giving you a kiss. Is that okay?"

"Um-hmm," Daphne said. "That is the only reason I went to all the trouble."

After dispensing the kiss, Harry continued holding Daphne.

"I know the protocol is we have to let Draco and Astoria do all their social stuff and get married before the way is clear for us. I have to tell you, though, however that meeting at Gringott's came about, it doesn't matter to me, my instincts say we were destined for this. Let Draco and Astoria take as long as they need.

"It won't change anything. I love you. I'm powerless before it."

Daphne dug her fingers into Harry's back. He let her because the pain brought him down to earth a little bit.

Harry heard Daphne sniff, once, twice. She stepped back.

"Harry, I'm having a little happy cry, and my makeup is going to run onto your beautiful shirt."

They both thought that was funny, and softly laughed.

"Then I'd better take it off," Harry said. Unbuttoning his shirt, he stood in front of the landscape Daphne had kept when she and Kreacher had redecorated. Harry addressed the two deer that stood very still, looking out from the painting.

"Leave," he said, "and you can take your black dog with you. We'll handle this next part without your help."

Later, they had both dozed off when they were awakened by voices from the gym next door. Someone said, "It's got to be all one motion! Pull UP and get me off balance, THEN throw your hip," followed by a loud THUMP, and the sound of two people laughing.

"They've decided to check out the dojo," Harry said.

Everyone slept fairly late on Sunday. Harry was in the kitchen with Kreacher making scrambled eggs when Millicent walked in, wearing one of the bathrobes Harry had asked Kreacher to provide.

"Thought I heard someone," she said. "You wouldn't have any coffee, would you?"

Kreacher poured a cup and brought it to Millicent.

"Here you are, Professor Bulstrode. Did you find everything you needed for your stay at Grimmauld Place?"

"I did. You thought of everything, Kreacher," Millicent said.

Ginny walked in, in the other bathrobe, still toweling her hair.

"I smell coffee," she declared, with the clear implication that someone could drop what they were doing and bring her a cup.

"Does Miss Ginny still like her coffee the same way, one lump of the turbinado, a little skim milk?" Kreacher asked as he poured coffee in another cup.

"Yes, Kreacher, thank you for remembering," Ginny said, a little amazed.

Daphne came in, stopped, yawned, and looked around at Millicent and Ginny in bathrobes, and Harry in a track suit, scrambling eggs.

"Harry Potter," Daphne said. "The company you keep."

"What's that mean?" Millicent snapped.

"We're officially decent," Ginny declared. She shook the lapel of her bathrobe. "Look-we're even wearing clothes."

Millicent semi-whooped at that.

"We'll have food up in a minute or two," Harry said. "So, why don't we send Trix into the study with a tray? Take your coffee and relax in there for now."

The witches left the kitchen, letting Kreacher and Harry get on with preparing breakfast. Harry called for Trix when he had a tray of eggs, toast and a carafe of coffee ready, and sent her to deliver it to the study. Neville and Hannah came downstairs.

"The witches are convened in that room across the hall, Hannah," Harry said, and Hannah left.

"Thanks, Harry," Neville said, as he accepted a cup of coffee. "We'll have to go check on Gran, then get back to Hannah's project at the pub. That was a great night, especially when you had Dad run through his auror's forms. We had just about despaired of ever getting him and Mum back, until Daphne became their attending. Now it looks like they might get to come home someday."

"Wait right there a minute," Harry said. He went to the salon and got a box of Seamus and Dean note cards, a quill and a bottle of ink from the cabinet beneath the buffet.

"I knew these would come in handy," Harry said when he got back to the kitchen. He took a card out and wrote:

"Madame Augusta,

Congratulations on the well-deserved gold medal. Thank you, from both of us, for your many years of service to St. Mungo's.

Best wishes always,

Harry Potter

Daphne Greengrass"

Harry handed the card, and an envelope, to Neville.

"Think that's okay?" he asked, as Neville read it.

"She'll probably send me out to my late grandfather's wood shop to make a frame for it," Neville said with a bit of a snort. "These old ladies, Harry. Maybe I shouldn't tell you, but, they're your groupies."

"Don't forget, you need to interrogate Madame Augusta and find us a place to take your parents. Someplace they can tolerate. We'll get them out of those hospital robes and let them feel a country lane underfoot again. Or a beach. Sidewalk," Harry told Neville, as he ran out of suggestions for outings.

Hannah came back into the kitchen, broadcasting energy.

"Longbottom Manor?" she asked Neville. "I'm about done with being dressed for the ball, even though I am quite beautiful in this gown."

Harry and Neville both recognized a cue when they heard it and teamed up to reinforce Hannah's self-assessment.

"Thank you for taking us, Harry," Hannah said. "I really needed to look pretty and kick up my heels. The Leaky Cauldron, I love the place, but after awhile…"

"My pleasure, and we helped Daphne with ticket sales, so how many wins is that? What's the best day for a lunch special this week?"

"Every day!" Hannah and Neville said in unison.

After Neville and Hannah left, Harry let Kreacher have the kitchen and, taking a cup of coffee with him, moved to the salon. He sat in a chair, by the window, that looked out onto the street and the park across the way. From his chair, he could see both the salon and the dining room. Harry thought through the arrangements for an engagement party, following the outline Daphne had given him just the week before.

Number of people. Quantity of food and beverages. Serving staff. Space.

The logistics wouldn't be that daunting, Harry decided. Money wasn't an issue, so they could hire all the additional staff required. Kreacher's connection with Hogwarts kitchen elves, and Daphne's with Faye and her colleagues meant that they would have chefs competing to come and assist.

The problem would be space. They'd have to put their heads together and solve that, if they wanted to entertain one hundred people at #12.

Ginny and Millicent appeared at the door. They walked into the salon, barefoot, holding hands, each wearing mismatched track suit components that Harry recognized.

"Are those clean?" Harry asked. "You're welcome to them, but…"

Millicent leaned over and put her nose near Ginny's shoulder, making a show of inhaling.

"Clean enough, yet not TOO clean," she said. "Just a hint of man-sweat to balance off the Amazon."

Ginny blushed, hissed, "Millicent!" and turned her head.

"So, what's next?" Harry asked. "Harpies playing?"

"No, or I wouldn't have been dancing the night away," Ginny said. She looked at Millicent. The two dropped their hands and pushed another chair over near Harry's, and both sat down.

"Daphne talked through a couple of things with us, Harry," Ginny said.

"She listened, and let us talk through some things," Millicent added.

"That's better, Millicent, thanks," Ginny said, smiling.

"The point is, we understand, now" said Millicent. "We understand things neither of us understood before."

"She's amazing," Ginny said. "That witch, Harry…"

"And we want to thank you, for whatever it was you did, Harry. Our lives…we both are very successful, but… _this_ …eluded us both," Millicent said, raising their clasped hands in illustration, "until you and Daphne came along."

Millicent's eyes got shiny then, and Ginny lay her arm on Millicent's shoulder, pulling her close.

"I'm not sure I did anything beyond wishing for happiness for two lovely witches," Harry said. "Egghead professor and glam quidditch star, so logical, it had to happen, don't you think? Now, you two will get to discover your own private magic. That should be lots of fun."

Ginny looked at Millicent, and the two stood up.

"We're off to the Burrow," Ginny said. "Molly's big Sunday dinner. I hope Charlie's there. We need you to bring Daphne out, soon, Harry, she is so overdue for initiation into the mysteries of Weasley."

They moved as one, leaning down, draping arms over Harry's shoulders.

"Thanks, Harry," they said together, planting kisses on both cheeks. They crossed to the foyer, where Kreacher met them, gave them their capes, and opened the door.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Ginny said. "Miss Daphne said we can leave the gowns upstairs for now. Millicent and I will figure the rest out."

"Miss Ginny's and Miss Millicent's gowns are welcome to stay as long as you like, Miss Ginny," Kreacher said. "Good bye for now."


	11. Chapter 11

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Eleven

Harry and Daphne Have An Engagement Party to Plan

Daphne walked into the salon as two 'pops' sounded from the front step. Harry got up to put the furniture back where it had been.

"According to the witch couple who just left, you are amazing," Harry said.

"I don't know if that is true or not, but it's still nice to hear," Daphne said.

She maneuvered behind Harry and wrapped her arms around him, pinning his own to his sides. "I hope it all works out for them. I want to see them again, together, soon. I promised we'll keep their room ready, just for them."

"The study worked out well."

"Madame knows her stuff."

"I try not to meddle in other peoples' lives," Harry said.

"I know you do. You're a good man, Harry."

"It isn't good to make assumptions based on what happens in a parallel timestream," he said.

"Not generally, no. But, your instincts were spot on, this time, weren't they? And you kept me in the dark and played me like a master fiddler to pull it off! In the midst of a charity ball! So advanced! That was a beautiful thing you did, Harry, with a bit of magic, and a bit of luck. You kept me right beside you too, you lovely wizard."

"You don't have to worry about Ginny and me, now, do you think?"

"No, you've put that to rest, but now I have to find something else to make me flare my nostrils and show my claws. Otherwise, a witch just doesn't keep the rust knocked off."

"Oh, claws, that reminds me," Harry said. "Can I just…"

He untwined Daphne's arms and left the salon. A moment later he was back, with the article he had torn out of _Transfiguration Today._ Harry led Daphne to the arm chair by the window, sat, and pulled her down onto his lap.

"Is this one of your surprises, Dr. Greengrass?" he asked, giving Daphne the clippings.

"Harry," Daphne said, her voice betraying a little strain. "I got interested in transfiguration because of Professor MacGonagall, and she kind of mentored me, and with her help, I learned to do some very advanced things, among them, transform myself. Are you alright with animagi? Some wizards are very prejudiced. I wanted to see if you were, before I told you. I control it, meaning I don't have any involuntary transformations. I don't have a compulsion to transform, but I really like the way I feel."

"My father was an animagus," Harry said. "And Sirius. They taught themselves so they could hang out with Remus Lupin when he had to go through his werewolf phase. They were rogues, never registered, as far as I know. You are…?"

"Oh," Daphne said. "So you don't have a problem with me? I'm in the Registry. MacGonagall is very strict about that. You can look me up, Head Auror."

"No. I don't have a problem. Ha-ha on the Registry," Harry assured her.

"Good," Daphne said, and while Harry was holding her on his lap she transformed into a lynx, with a coat of thick, platinum fur, black points, tufted ears, amber eyes and a tail. The lynx put her paws on Harry's shoulders and licked his face. Her rough tongue was irritating, but Harry thought it best to let the lynx have her way, at least until he had familiarized himself with the etiquette of human-lynx interaction.

The chair really wasn't big enough for Harry and an adult lynx, but he scooted over as far as he could, letting the lynx have some territory and holding the rest on his lap. Harry wasn't really thinking about it when he started scratching behind the lynx' ears and under her chin. She started purring almost immediately, using her paws to move Harry's hand around and show him where all the best scratching places were. Harry lost track of time, which simply became _Now_ , as he let the buzz of the near-constant motion of the past day-and-a-half catch up to him.

Sensing he was about to doze off, he stopped scratching and sat a little straighter.

"The day's getting on," Harry said. "Did you want to do anything?"

The lynx sat up and looked Harry in the eye. Harry would have sworn he recognized disappointment on the lynx' face, despite his dearth of knowledge of lynx lore. She bounded off the chair and down the hall, and a few moments later, Daphne walked into the salon.

"Raffles needs a visit," Daphne said. "We have an invitation for lunch, if you want to go."

"Perfect," Harry said. "Can I go like this?"

"Of course, Harry. If you need to, you can always change into some of the clothes in _your room._ "

Harry and Daphne stepped into the fireplace, Daphne dropped some floo powder and said, "Greengrass Manor." With a WHOOSH they were gone.

Moments later, they stepped out of the fireplace in the Greengrass library.

"Oh, what a lovely surprise," Kendra Greengrass said. Raffles had been sitting next to Kendra on one of the massive leather library couches. He jumped down, barking, and ran to Daphne, who scooped him up and began kissing his face.

"Well, it's Mr. Raffles, isn't it?" and other nonsense continued until Raffles calmed down. Then it was Harry's turn. Keeping Raffles at his flat for two days seemed to be all it took for Raffles to accept Harry as a surrogate for Daphne. Harry was thus subject to being greeted with every bit as much ceremony as Daphne, should the mood strike Raffles.

Daphne crossed the distance to the couch, bent over and kissed her mother on the cheek.

"Who's here?" Daphne asked.

"Your father is in the garden with a quill and some parchment, documenting what's in the beds at the moment, and writing down the changes he wants to make in the spring. Astoria is upstairs, whether she is conscious or not is unknown at present, so if you want to poke your head in her room, you can tell her we expect Draco within the hour.

"How are you, Harry? I've just left you standing there with Raffles to keep you company. How about some coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?

"Daphne?" Harry asked. "Hot chocolate sounds good to me, should we get two?"

"Let me go check on the Honorable Miss Astoria," Daphne said.

"Hot chocolate for two then," Kendra said. "Trix?"

"What did you think of the ball, Harry?" Kendra asked when Trix had disapparated.

"It was my first one," Harry said, as Raffles continued administering a thorough smelling-over. "Without anything to compare it to, I give it highest marks. It even had an imperious old lady showing the young pups a thing or two. What more could we ask for?"

Kendra laughed out loud at that, highly unusual for the usually-subdued witch.

"Augusta! She backed it up, too, didn't she? Fifty years of volunteering, a million galleons raised for the hospital, I was so happy for her. Frank and Alice were so much better than the last time I saw them. Alice recognized me right away. The last time, I'm not sure she ever figured out who I was.

"How was your party afterwards? I was asleep by the time Astoria came in, so I don't have any gossip after the point where Fabio and I left. Daphne took a break from her dancing to blow us a kiss. Wish I had a picture of that."

"I think everyone had fun," Harry said. "Daphne took Draco and Astoria to say hello to Walburga's portrait. It was nice. Walburga was extremely gracious, which surprised me. I told her about getting announced by the herald using my titles, which I sense is important to her. She didn't insult me, so that is a high compliment."

"You're right Harry. I'm sorry you're treated that way. She formed her ideas a long time ago. You'll do more for the House of Black than all of her contemporaries with their schemes and violence. I didn't know Sirius well. Sirius moved too fast for anyone but James to really get to know him. I know he meant a lot to you."

"Thank you. They left me quite a legacy to live up to," Harry said.

"And, Daphne and I have now hosted an event at #12 Grimmauld Place."

"You've arrived Harry! Magical society will have its expectations," Kendra said.

"It was ten people. We couldn't even get Tracey to come," Harry laughed. The idea of becoming a social circuit mover and shaker was alien to the adult who still thought from the perspective of an impoverished orphan, despite the professional and financial success he had experienced.

Raffles jumped down as Daphne entered the library, followed by a yawning Astoria.

"All okay, dear?" Kendra asked.

"Just tired," Astoria said. "I feel like I could sleep all day. That's probably not a good idea, when my future lord and master is due to arrive any second."

She knelt to give Raffles' ears a good scratch and exchange some nonsense greetings.

Harry thought back to his conversation with Draco at the ball. Draco didn't seem to be of the opinion that he was anyone's lord and master. Quite the contrary, in fact. It sounded to Harry as if Draco had been stripped of his free will and lived solely to serve the needs of his empress, the Honorable Miss Astoria. He sneaked a look at Daphne, who had a little half-smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she gave her head the very slightest of shakes.

"Puppies!" she seemed to be saying.

"Astoria, Harry and I wanted to propose something to you and Draco, but if you don't like the idea, we'll just drop it," said Daphne. "Now that you've seen #12, what would you think if Harry and I gave you and Draco your engagement announcement party? The magical venues won't be available from now until well into January. We think we could handle up to one hundred, if you do a buffet."

"Daphne! Really? Would you?" Astoria cried. "Oh, that would be awesome. The stuff of legend! I love it. Oh, we have to ask Draco, don't we? Darn! What if he says no?"

Harry looked at Daphne. Daphne looked back. She raised her chin a little and dropped it, advising Harry his comments were now required.

"Astoria, if you want an engagement party at #12 Grimmauld Place, we're both pretty sure Draco will want that, too. In any event, we'll discuss it when we're all here. What did you think of the house?" Harry asked.

"I loved it, especially Madame Black," said Astoria.

"Did you meet Walburga?" Kendra asked.

"Oh, yes, Daphne introduced us. I curtsied and everything. Draco's her grand-nephew, of course. She was very sweet to us, wasn't she Daphne? AND, according to her, I have the look of Slytherin House!" Astoria bragged.

"She was very sweet," Daphne said. "I think she is getting to like the idea of having people around again. She was alone with Kreacher all the time Sirius was in Azkaban. She probably went months, or years, without any stimulation at all. It's a wonder the portrait didn't recede into permanent dormancy. I can't imagine Kreacher is a source of scintillating repartee."

Harry heard a distant 'pop' followed by the squeaky gate's rusty-hinge tones.

"WEL-come to Greengrass Manor, Master Draco, so good to see you once again. Madame Kendra is expecting you. Please go right on in."

The front door opened and Harry heard Trix' voice.

"Master Draco, so good to see you, please go right on in the library," said the little house elf.

Raffles had to get down to charge Draco, and Harry nearly lost the little Bichon before he could put him on the floor. It must not have hurt Raffles' feelings, though, because he ran right back to Harry and asked to be picked up, as soon as he had greeted Draco.

"Hot chocolate, Draco?" Kendra asked. "Coffee, tea, mineral water, pumpkin juice, hot pumpkin juice?"

"The hot chocolate sounds good," Draco said. "It's finally getting to feel like winter is coming. We need to get rained on, and snowed on, and feel the cold more. Magical people have gotten used to too many warming charms, and drying charms, and starting up the fireplace with a wand."

Draco's comments were so out of character, everyone stopped talking. No one had a response. Draco was from an old pureblood family, and the Malfoys denied ever having had a non-magical member, going all the way back to the hominids roaming the savannah. Lucius and Narcissa were the furthest from outdoor enthusiasts that it was possible to be. Harry wondered what was going on, for Draco to express regret for wands' utility around the hearth.

Harry resolved once again to keep his ears open and his mouth shut. He figured he knew two things already—whatever was behind Draco's comment was probably interesting, and, if he showed too much interest, Draco would become sensitive and clam up.

Trix brought Draco his hot chocolate. Harry was ready to take Draco up on his comments about getting outside into some late fall weather, because he was feeling the need for some fresh air, when Astoria spoke.

"Draco, Daphne and Harry want to host our engagement party, what do you think about that?"

"Really?" Draco asked, looking at Harry, then over at Daphne. "You'd do that for us? Well, thank you! Where?"

"At #12 Grimmauld Place," Daphne said. "You can have it any time you want. There wouldn't be any competition from other holiday events. That's the advantage. If you're okay, we can discuss it with your parents, and if everyone is in favor, we'll get started on the planning."

"Astoria?" Draco asked.

"Absolutely!" Astoria said. "Gosh, it was worth getting out of bed for this, after all."

Harry still had Raffles tucked under one arm.

"Draco, if you want some fresh air, we could go locate Mr. Greengrass, then the witches can talk winter garlands, or punch recipes," Harry said.

Three witches turned their heads and stared at Harry.

"Just saying…" Harry offered.

"Great idea!" Draco added, taking a pinch of Harry's sleeve in his fingers. "We'll come back when you need us for the decision-making phase."

Draco got Harry out of the library, and harm's way.

"I'd heard you've been time-traveling, Potter," Draco said when they got to the central hallway. "I guess this is your year of living dangerously."

"Was that too dismissive?" Harry said. "It was only partly in jest. That really is what they'll want to talk about."

"Best not remind them you see behind the curtain," Draco advised. "It's supposed to be as intriguing for you as it is for them. Secretly, they know they're torturing us, but part of the fun is watching us pretend their plans are our highest priority."


	12. Chapter 12

A note to readers-

Thank you to all who have taken the time to leave reviews. Most are more along the lines of a personal note, some just expressing appreciation for the story, others mentioning specific details they liked. I have worked on finding more logical places for breaks between chapters, because one or two mentioned they like more structure in that regard. Please feel free to comment on technical or structural detail. If it makes readers happier with the content, I'll try to tailor it to your needs. The last thing any of us want is to have the mechanics of the piece detract from the pleasure of reading. I'll close here, but must note how nice it is, in the era of 140-word tweets, to find so many people who enjoy a story that takes its time developing, so we all get to know the people on the page like family. Best regards.

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twelve

Gardening Tips, Followed By a Lovely Lunch

Draco and Harry proceeded down the hall, across the sunny room by the patio, and outside, where Harry put Raffles down on the flagstones. They could see Fabio Greengrass down the hill, walking among the beds of dead and dormant flowers.

"Mr. Greengrass," said Harry.

"Mr. Greengrass," said Draco.

"Hullo, gentlemen!" Fabio said. "Welcome back. Come to do a little gardening?"

"We've come to stay out of the Greengrass witches' way, and breathe the autumn air," Harry said.

"Wiser words were never…" Fabio said. "Well, I'm making some notes on these beds. I have a few ideas about what I'd like to do next spring. I figure a garden is never done, like a life. There is always something that you'd ought to take out, and another variety that might be an improvement."

"Have you thought about your country place anymore? Did you get the magical survey and abstract from Whetstone?" Fabio asked Harry.

"Haven't had time to do anything, between work and the ball," Harry said. "I was thinking we might go take an initial look, if you're interested."

Fabio pulled out a large-ish pocket watch and looked at the time. The only other one like it that Harry had ever seen had belonged to Dumbledore. Harry could see stars on the outer rim, but this watch also had astrological signs in a separate ring around the face. Harry speculated that Fabio, like many gardeners, both muggle and magical, had strong feelings about letting the signs guide his plans for planting, tilling, pruning, and other garden tasks.

"The Greengrass witches will expect our presence at lunch shortly. I want to go see it, too, so let's consider leaving soon after coffee. If we can get permission for an expeditious departure, we ought to have a couple of hours onsite, at least. Let's head for the house and see if our hunger pangs are obvious enough to qualify us for the early seating."

The three wizards and one Bichon started up the hill to the house. Raffles kept discovering gnomes beneath trees and shrubs. He would signal Fabio with some excited barking, then plant his nose on the soil for a period of snuffling, then start digging. If Fabio heard a gnome protest, he invariably would call Raffles off.

"Yes, Raffles, good boy, I know about that one, he's keeping the moles out of that bed, those are tubers and the moles will clean 'em out if we don't let him handle them. That's good though, you found him didn't you?" Fabio would say.

Raffles would move on to his next gnome sighting and repeat his performance.

"Yes, Raffles, good one, there _is_ a gnome under there, but we need to leave him alone, he's keeping the soil aerated for me," Fabio might say.

"Mr. Greengrass, are there _any_ gnomes you remove?" Draco asked.

"Oh, sure," Fabio said. "Sometimes they're in the wrong place, it can be the wrong time of year for some plants. Generally speaking, though, there is usually a good reason a gnome is where it is.

"There is a ducal estate a few miles that way," Fabio said, pointing to the west. "The Duke had a head gardener, a squib fellow, that I got to know. He spotted me as a wizard instantly, of course. He knew more about gardening than anyone I've ever met. He couldn't use magic, but he had an extraordinarily high degree of magical awareness.

"I asked him about how to get a gnome out from under a beech tree. He asked why I wanted to get the gnome out, and I was pretty naïve, as a gardener, at that time, so I probably said something like 'Because it's a gnome!'"

"He asked me if the beech tree was where I wanted it, and it was, and he said to leave the gnome alone. The beech tree has some interesting properties, among them, they have a kind of symbiosis with their gnome. If you do what most people do, and dig out the gnome, and put it some distance off, the beech tree will start migrating to the gnome. Not very fast, of course. It's still a tree, isn't it? He told me the exception on the estate was, he would use that technique to move beech trees back from the bridle paths in His Grace's forests. Easier than cutting them down and sawing them up, he said."

"That was the beginning of my education about the real magical web underneath all of this. Witches and wizards have magical gifts and go to school and learn to wave wands around, and half of us don't do anything with it but make sparks to entertain ourselves, but that head gardener could look further into the magical spectrum than almost all of the wizards I've known, and see the threads that connect it all and make it work. It made me think, between me, and him, who was really the wizard?

"Well, here we are, lads," Fabio said, as they reached the door. Fabio started pulling his feet out of his rubber boots. "Here's a little charm I use for this."

He held his boots by their tops, drew his wand, and said, " _Purgo."_

Harry and Draco were both wearing trainers, so they sat down on a bench by the door to untie their shoes. Holding them out before them, they pointed their wands and said " _Purgo."_

Their trainers were instantly free of the dirt and grit they'd picked up on the garden paths.

"That's a new one to me, Mr. Greengrass," Draco said.

"Handy one, isn't it?" Fabio asked. "It has the added advantage of keeping the Greengrass witches from scolding us about tracking up the floors. Never mind the elves are always looking high and low for something on which to use their magic. Just one of a number of things wizards aren't meant to understand, one supposes."

Back in the sunny room by the patio, Mr. Greengrass looked around. The table had a table cloth and placemats for six, but no other indication anyone would be lunching there.

"Surely she isn't going to use the dining room," said Fabio, more to himself than to Draco and Harry. "Let's go find them. There may be some plan for this."

Fabio led the party out into the central hall, back toward the library, where he paused before giving the door a few knocks.

Kendra answered from inside, "Come in."

Harry put Raffles down on the floor as Fabio opened the door. Raffles charged in and again made the rounds, although this time, there were four witches present in the library, because Narcissa Malfoy had joined the party.

"Gentlemen," Kendra said, standing up. "We have a guest. Narcissa has come over from Malfoy Manor so we can chat her up. Harry, it looks like you and Daphne have a party to plan."

"That's great!" Harry said. "When are you thinking you want to have it?"

Harry could see a Seamus and Dean magical planning calendar was already open on the couch between Narcissa and Kendra. The witches looked at each other, switching looks several times before Astoria offered, "We're still talking about that."

Harry could see why. The calendar was already well-filled-in, with notations of Christmas parties, New Year, post-New Year, engagement parties, and at least two weddings set for the holiday season. Well, that was a witch specialty, wasn't it? Witches knew about these things. Surely the four of them would sit down and ring the changes and a logical date would emerge, with minimum fuss and bother.

"This is going to take some work, Harry," Daphne said. She could have almost been answering Harry's silent remarks. "We're going to need everyone to pitch in. There's plenty of time, so we'll use it and do it right."

Harry knew he dare not look at either Fabio or Draco, because, if he did, he would crack up, and incur the wrath of four witches who should all probably be wearing little patches that warned: _Dangerous If Provoked_.

In his peripheral vision, Harry could see that Fabio was absorbed in a serious re-buttoning of the cuff on the heavy overshirt he wore as a jacket, and Draco seemed to be fixing his gaze exclusively on his intended. This last, presumably, served to keep stray thoughts from penetrating his mind and illustrating the absurdity of it all.

Harry improvised from those examples by putting the knuckle of his right forefinger under the point of his chin, pursing his lips slightly, and nodding in agreement. He added a low-pitched "…Mmmmm…" for additional sincerity.

"Well!" Fabio said, coming to the rescue. "These young wizards have been outdoors with me, and I expect I've let them work up an appetite. They're still growing, so we probably should feed them."

Kendra got on board, oooooh-ing over the time and concurring with Fabio that the young people really needed their lunches. Linking arms with Narcissa, she got everyone conveyed to the sunny room. She called for Trix, who snapped her fingers and produced another place setting, plus tableware for the original six. She disappeared and was back seconds later with a large tray of sandwiches, a dish of dill pickles, a bowl of hot potato salad, and several large bottles of mineral water. When all of that was on the table, she snapped her fingers and seven tumblers appeared in front of the diners.

Narcissa sat between Draco and Harry. Throughout lunch she somehow kept the sandwich tray in front of her, providing Draco and Harry's initial issue of a sandwich each, then replacing those with a second as soon as the first one was gone. The bowl of potato salad circulated, and Narcissa personally served them generous helpings, insisting they tell her it was enough, before she would stop spooning.

Daphne observed Astoria watching Narcissa overdoing the care and feeding, and detected some Astoria distress.

"Madame Walburga asked about you last night, Mrs. Malfoy, when we brought Astoria and Draco over to say hello to her portrait," Daphne offered.

"She was my favorite aunt," Narcissa said, somehow managing to smile at Daphne while topping up Draco's glass of mineral water. "I have lots of fond memories of Grimmauld Place."

"Well, we hope you like it now. We updated some colors and furniture. It's unfortunate the house lacked attention for so long. We want to get you and Mr. Malfoy over soon, if we can make our schedules behave."

It went on that way for a few more minutes. Harry watched in some wonder. Daphne kept Narcissa occupied while Astoria silently offered Draco additional potato salad, an uneaten half sandwich from her own plate, and a pickle.

Harry had manfully done his best to eat everything Narcissa had put on his plate, but admitted defeat and pushed his chair back a bit from the table. He looked to Fabio for some cue. Fabio winked at him.

"That dog of yours is a prize, Daphne," he said. "Don't know what I'd do without him. He finds the gnomes, and I let him know if the gnome needs to stay or go. It's uncanny. You'd think he could understand me."

"Don't you want to de-gnome entirely, Fabio?" Narcissa asked. "I always thought that was a requirement, once or twice a year."

"A lot of people would agree with you, Narcissa," Fabio replied, "but they'd only be half right. A gnome in a bed this time of year will be moving around right through the winter, unless it's a hard winter and the frost goes deep. The gnome movement amounts to deep tilling, which brings up soil, and with the soil from the deeper layers come minerals. It saves the gardener a lot of work in the spring, because one doesn't have to get the fork and turn it all over by hand.

"Fruit trees, if you're lucky enough to have an orchard, like a few gnomes around, because they'll keep the parasites off the roots. The trees don't have to work so hard if the parasites don't build up, and the apples, pears, cherries, or what have you will have a lot more flavor."

"Mr. Greengrass, would you be willing to take a look at the fruit trees on that place I inherited, over in Devon? They're still there, but it looks like they would benefit from some expert attention," Harry said.

"Of course, Harry," Fabio replied. "Whenever it's convenient. I'd be happy to. We'll welcome you into the Gardener's Guild if you'd like to start poking around in the soil."

"I didn't even know there was a Gardener's Guild," Harry said, "but thanks!"

"I expect we'd have to be the founders," Fabio replied, "but it seems like a good idea. Are you in, Draco? Lots of wholesome outdoor exercise and insights into the natural world, whence comes all the magic."

"Why don't you three start your field trip?" Kendra said. "We'll list our party planning ideas, and you can sit down and go through them with us when you get back. Then you'll be able to focus."

"Oh, well, I suppose we could, if you think so," Fabio said, looking back and forth between Harry and Draco.

"Sounds great," Harry said, with a quick glance at Daphne, who responded with the co-conspirator look.

"Back shortly, Astoria," Draco said as he pushed his chair back from the table. "Mother…"


	13. Chapter 13

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Thirteen

The Wizards Get Out of the Way and Learn Something About the Fairies

The three made their way to the spot that worked well for disapparating, just outside the wards of Greengrass Manor.

"Remember the way, Harry?" Fabio asked. "We'll just come along with you this time."

Draco, Fabio and Harry apparated on the former lawn of Potter Manor, just off the cobblestone patio. Fabio let go his grip on Harry and stepped back a few feet, turning around, a quarter circle at a time.

"Good job, Harry," Fabio said. "Take a good look around, Draco, you may have to find your way back one of these days. What a homesite, Harry. And there are the gardens and the fruit trees. Let's go see what you've got."

Fabio drew his wand, as Harry did. Harry noticed that Fabio's wand twitched now and then, and Fabio seemed to be muttering under his breath. Harry wanted to ask for some background on Fabio's wand work. He was sure Fabio wasn't talking to himself, but casting revealing charms, and who knew what else, sweeping the ground in front of them, looking for traps and stay-behind jinxes. After all, the Dark Lord himself was alleged to have been the vandal who destroyed Potter Manor. It would have been like him to leave behind some surprises for the unwary.

"Looks safe enough," Fabio said. "Never hurts to be on your guard, anytime You Know Who is or was involved."

Harry and Draco involuntarily looked away from one another. Since the Second Wizarding War concluded, they had observed an unarticulated pact. Draco's father had been an enthusiastic follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and had expected severe punishment after Harry had despatched his leader, once and for all. Harry was more interested in seeing that Dark Magic did not come back as a popular pastime for witches and wizards, than he was in punishment, and he exerted considerable influence on the Ministry to leave the disgraced a route back into wizarding society, rather than hunt every Voldemort supporter down and send them to Azkaban. Harry had no need to bring up Draco's family's history, and Draco continued to be embarrassed by the fact that he owed Harry a debt that could never be repaid, for Harry's magnanimous approach that enabled the Malfoys' rehabilitation.

"Let's go see the trees, since they are the alleged subject of our study. Looks like you've got apple, pear, cherry, for sure. This looks like a crab apple. They bore fruit last season. The cherries are dried and still hanging on, that's good, they'll feed the squirrels and birds over the winter. See the tips of the apple branches all stop the same distance above ground? That's deer browsing. The height above ground is the height the tallest deer can reach standing on his hind legs. Look down, those are all deer tracks.

"They've all got their buds for spring. See? These will swell and look like buds in March or April, depending on the variety. These little ones are how the buds look now, then come spring, that's where your blossoms come from.

"Over here, these beds were vegetables, so they haven't had any care and we wouldn't expect to see anything now. The herbs could be doing something. Rosemary is a shrub so there is still some, here.

"It all looks very well-preserved. The beds had these little stone borders, and they're still in good shape. I'd say, if you want to turn the soil over, bring in some manure, and spend a little time with it, your garden stands a good chance of giving you some potatoes, at least, Harry. You really can't do wrong with potatoes.

"Let's see, down here…" Fabio walked down the slope a little further. "Yes. Here it is. Someone had what we'd call a greenhouse here, quite some time ago. It had been let go, and was wanting some restoration when James and Lily had the place. Lily had it on her 'to-do' list. Probably had it on James' list, truth be told. They would have called it an orangerie when it was established. Potioneers love a greenhouse because they can grow their necessary materials all year 'round. Madame Sprout is the foremost example in the present day. Unfortunately, Lily and James just didn't have the time to take care of everything. Looks like the foundation is solid, though, Harry, so if you wanted to invest in some glass and some framing, it wouldn't be the biggest construction project ever conceived."

"Thanks for the consultation, Mr. Greengrass. I know nothing about gardening," Harry said. "It looks like it would be a perfect break from work.

"Change of subject. I've been thinking about the mill. Any chance you could find the site? And can we walk there and still be back in a reasonable time?"

Fabio looked around some more. He pulled out his pocket watch, put it back in his pocket, and said, "This way."

"We can just apparate back from there, unless you've got some reason to return here," Fabio said.

"The next thing, Harry, unless you're content with a place to go for picnics, is to get the magical documentation from Whetstone. You won't be able to do much until you've established what you have. This is a great place for a country house, as I recall. James and did a little astronomy up here. There aren't any of those pesky muggle lights around to meddle with the night sky and obscure the stars."

Harry thought of Mrs. Greengrass' report of James and Fabio's project of star identification, combined with firewhisky, but decided to keep that insider knowledge to himself.

"If I do put something here, I want an owlery," Harry said.

Fabio and Draco looked at him.

"Don't know why," Harry explained, "just always wanted an owlery close at hand."

"Reasonable enough, I guess," Fabio observed.

Harry, Draco and Fabio continued on, following an overgrown two track lane through a patch of hardwoods, along a stone fence, and finally, up and down a little hill, eventually emerging into a broad meadow with a stream. They followed the stream a short distance until Fabio said, "There it is."

The building looked as Fabio had described it. It sat by a pond, which needed cleaning, but the impoundment must have been in good shape, since it held water. The weather surfaces had been stucco'd at one time, but the underlying stone walls showed through at numerous places. The roof was a dark gray slate, and looked intact, at least from their angle.

Fabio had his wand out, and was muttering again. Draco and Harry looked at him for a cue as to where they'd be going next.

"Looks okay. At least I can't detect anything malicious about," Fabio said. "Let's go closer, but take our time. _Revelio_ ought to be sufficient to alert us to real trouble, if there is anything here. If you men think there is cause for concern, we all stop, if anyone says, 'STOP' alright?"

The three wizards worked their way toward the old mill. Harry grew more excited the closer they got. The mill was an artifact from another era, an age of harnessing water power, and stone mill wheels, to turn grain into flour, before an abundance of steel, coal and petroleum gave birth to the modern, and the distancing of humanity from the magic that lay at the bottom of so much, alongside the fundamental forces that could be measured and manipulated to do work, while losing the wonder of magic in the process.

"Anything?" Draco asked Fabio.

"No. There are charms, though," Fabio said. "Not your everyday fertility and soil helpers, which we'd expect in the countryside. I think these are old. Someone has left us some seating. Let's use it."

Fabio pointed at an old millstone and a wooden bench. Harry thought it was odd that a wooden bench still stood, apparently ready for use, after sitting outdoors in the weather for almost three decades. He didn't ask, but resolved to inquire of Fabio what was responsible for such preservation.

Fabio sat on the millstone.

"Let's not be too loud, or we'll frighten them. That would not be good. See the ring? There are fairies around, somewhere. We have to wait and see if they want to come visit us," Fabio said. "Sometimes, we can encourage them."

" _Adhibete Fatales_ ," Fabio said to his wand, in low, barely audible tones.

A bright, tiny, point of light jumped from the tip of his wand, and hovered between the visitors and the house. Another point about the same size rose from the ground near the front of the house, then another, then three more, then, before Harry had processed what his eyes were telling him, hundreds of points of light surrounded the party.

"Ever seen fairies, lads?" Fabio asked. "We don't want to startle them, and we sure do not want to insult them. They don't accept either with much grace. Best we let them take the lead."

A voice emerged from the cloud of hovering lights. Female, very soothing in tone, hypnotic in cadence, Harry thought.

"You're Harry. Lily asks us to look after you," said the voice.

"Asked? Did my mother ask you to look after me?" Harry asked, a bit confused by the verb tense.

"Lily asks if we will look after you, when you are at the mill. Lily is a very unusual witch. She is not asking the fairies for charms or magic that is beyond her. She likes using magic to make things beautiful. Lily makes many beautiful things just for the fairies. If Lily weren't already human, she could be a fairy."

"My mother is dead. It has been almost thirty years. I'm sorry you didn't know," Harry said.

The cloud of fairies shrank and the individual points of light condensed until they nearly appeared to be a single ball. A high-pitched buzz emerged from the cloud of light. Eventually, the cloud expanded and the individual floating points re-established themselves.

"The fairies regret Harry Potter feels distress from the loss of Lily," said the voice from the fairies. "We wish to explain that the fairies live outside time. Thus, Lily is here with us, asking that we look after Harry Potter when he is at the mill. The fairies understand that humans are required to live according to time. For the fairies, Lily is sitting on the bench by the door to the mill, holding Harry Potter for the fairies to see, and introducing him to the fairies, so the fairies will know him.

"You would say the fairies are talking to Lily and to you at the same time, and that is a contradiction, but the fairies do not have time. The fairies _are._ For the fairies, Lily _is._

"In human terms, the fairies bid you welcome to the mill. Please go inside and look around. You are safe here."

"Thank you to all the fairies," Fabio said.

"At least these speak English," said Fabio. "It is hard to communicate when they don't have time. All of our concepts are at odds. Try that in France sometime, if you're looking for practice with your French verbs."

The three got up from their seats and walked to the house. The graveled paths around the house were somewhat overgrown, but the casual visitor would not have guessed the mill had been abandoned for three decades.

Reaching the door, Harry looked at Fabio.

"Go ahead, it opens or it doesn't," Fabio said. Harry lifted a handle that gave the appearance of working a latch on the interior side. The handle lifted easily, and the door opened with a little push.

The only light came from the windows. As with most older buildings, those were few, so the first thing everyone saw was a large open space, a trestle table, and a wooden cabinet against the far wall. Any other detail was lost in the gloom.

"Wish we could see it in better light," Harry said.

Fabio said, "Trix!"

"Trix is here, Master Fabio," said the little elf. "Where are Trix and Master Fabio? Oh, and Master Harry, and Master Draco."

"This place seems to be called The Mill, Trix," Fabio said. "It hasn't been seen to in quite some time. It is attached to a piece of property that Master Harry got from his parents. I have a couple of questions. Do you sense any other elves about the place?"

Trix stood still beside Fabio, her elf ears twitching now and then.

"No, Master Fabio, Trix does not think there are elves here."

"Do you think someone has been caring for the house? It is in very good condition." Fabio asked.

Again, Trix stood still, working her ears, looking here and there.

"No, Master Fabio, Trix does not think anyone has been caring for the house. Trix thinks someone cast very good cleaning and repair charms. The charms are not strong now, but they remain. The charms did well, but they have not been renewed for a very long time," Trix said.

"The lamps have oil, if Master Harry would like to see the room in better light," Trix added.

Harry looked at Fabio.

"Give it a try," Fabio said.

" _Lumos,"_ Harry said, doing a little casting motion with his wand. The lamps, of which there were three, illuminated immediately, and the room's details were suddenly visible.

The main room was clearly the food preparation, eating and sitting space. The wooden trestle table occupied the center of the room, and two wooden chairs were pulled up before a fireplace at one end. The fireplace had been updated and the hearth housed a small iron stove. The far wall was nearly all fireplace, this one still equipped with a huge iron hook that must have been partnered by a similarly-sized iron pot at one time. A small iron cook stove stood against the back wall, a nickel-plated kettle sitting on top.

Fabio led the way to a door off the main space. It opened at his touch, and swung freely on its hinges. Harry noticed the hinges didn't squeak, despite being neglected for nearly thirty years.

"Bedroom," Fabio said. There was a four-poster bed frame, but the bedding and mattress were gone.

"A little sweeping, dusting, polish…" Harry said.

"Does Master Harry want Trix to freshen up The Mill?" asked the elf.

"Not this afternoon, but thank you," Harry said.

"I'd be ready to get back, after we look at the pond," said Harry. "Like you say, I need the documentation. I expect any projects will have to compete with the ministry, St. Mungo's, the holiday season, and Draco's social calendar."

Draco made a snorting sound.

"We're giving it our highest priority, as you saw," Harry said.

"Daphne adores Astoria. Daphne is making it her highest priority," Draco said.

"And I will be right there, hanging holiday garlands and mixing punch," Harry told him.

"The pond seems to be holding water, Mr. Greengrass," Harry observed. "Are those fish?"

"Probably, the old millers would raise fish in the impoundments, something for the table, or to trade. Trout, usually," said Fabio. "Isn't that something? Well, Harry, get Whetstone to come up with the survey and abstract, those are your basic real property documents, then you can walk the boundaries and get a picture of what is here. That is the first step, before any kind of serious planning can start.

"Now, we need a place a little more distant, so we don't disturb the fairies. They might not like hearing us pop out of here. Trix?"

"Trix is here, Master Fabio," said the elf.

"Get up here, we're going to walk," Fabio said, extending his hand.

House elves were not very good at walking, especially in open country. Their legs were short, and they typically used apparation when they had to move more than a few yards. Fabio swung Trix up onto his shoulder and started for the flat spot. When they arrived, he swung her down in the reverse motion.

"You can go on back to the Manor, Trix," said Fabio. "We'll be right behind you."

The elf disapparated with a 'pop' followed by Fabio, Draco and Harry.

The late afternoon sun was very low in the sky. Harry reminded himself the shortest day of the year was a little more than a month away. The autumn had been pleasant. Adequate sunny days to keep seasonal gloom away, even a few warm days, although the nights were getting colder as winter approached.

The three walked up to the front door of Greengrass Manor, and Trix welcomed them back.


	14. Chapter 14

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Fourteen

The Leaky Cauldron, The Mill, And a Harry/Daphne Plot

The next few weeks passed quickly. There were no more incidents with the time streams. No one knew why, which raised some anxiety levels, because there was no way to judge whether the problem was behind them, or not. The brigadier's uniform hanging in the closet at Harry's flat did not help, at all. Harry and Daphne threw themselves into work, trying to be as productive as possible so they could leave early, or stay for two or three hours at most on the inevitable weekend work days. Party planning consumed time every day, some days more than others.

Harry took Daphne to Andromeda Tonks' home and introduced her to Teddy. Andromeda knew the Greengrasses fairly well, but for some reason, Daphne and Teddy had never met. Teddy had no siblings, so he had spent a lot of time with adults. He was instantly comfortable with Daphne, showing her the house and garden, keeping up a stream of precocious blather. Daphne had been a big sister for as long as she could remember, and she easily snapped into the role of confidant and advisor as soon as she and Teddy met.

Harry and Andromeda stood in her back yard, holding mugs of tea, watching Daphne and Teddy check on the garden.

"Daphne and I have been spending some time at #12 Grimmauld Place. We even used it for a small afterparty gathering following the St. Mungo's Ball," Harry said.

"That is as vile a piece of real estate as you could find in London," Andromeda said. "I don't know why you bother."

"Of course, I have a different perspective," Harry said. "I associate it with hanging out with Sirius, listening to his tales of the Marauders."

"You're welcome to it, Harry. I hope you don't want to have Teddy come spend time with you there. I'd fear for his sanity."

"I understand your feelings, of course," said Harry, "but consider this. I grew up without a family. Circumstances, and everyone thought they were doing the best they could for the orphan, of course. I can't do anything about that.

"I want the Blacks to reconcile. I want the past to be past. I want to you to be able to pass civil words with Narcissa. My strongest wish for Teddy is that he be able to live without a cleavage running down the center of his life. It needs to be put right, but I can't do it without your help. Just, please, consider it."

Andromeda didn't say any more, but her silence said she wasn't ready to give Harry the slightest opening. For his part, Harry resolved to let Andromeda have some time, just to get used to the idea. He was counting on the bonds between Andromeda and Narcissa being stronger than the issues that had separated them. Those issues no longer applied. The Dark Lord was no more. Harry had had a lot of help, but in the end, he had solved the Dark Lord problem, personally.

Bellatrix Black Lestrange, who loved the Dark Lord and chaos, pretty much to the exclusion of everything else, was also gone. She would have kept her sisters apart, out of pure maliciousness, but without her as a factor, Harry didn't see getting Narcissa and Andromeda back on speaking terms as impossible. He thought, if all the other issues could just be set aside, the two sisters would stand a chance of reconciliation.

In early December, Harry took Daphne, Andromeda and Teddy to lunch at Morgan le Fay's. Teddy could barely spare enough attention to eat. He found London from above to be quite compelling. Toward the end, Daphne got up, took Teddy, and left the table to walk around and see some other views.

Andromeda and Harry stayed at their table, enjoying sorbets and splitting a pot of tea.

"I'm considering what you said," Andromeda told Harry.

Harry nodded.

"The Blacks kicked me out," she said. Harry nodded again.

"They chose to see me as leaving them for Ted. They didn't have to do that. The whole bunch were bonkers. Look what Walburga did to Regulus and Sirius."

"I know," Harry said. "People became wedded to worldviews when they should have been listening to their hearts, where family was concerned. Did you know, Walburga's portrait had Kreacher dragoon me for a stern talking-to? She told me she had learned, when it was too late, you keep your family together above all else. Too bad she was close to death when she figured that out. She could have done a lot of good on the magical lecture circuit."

Andromeda's laughter interrupted Harry. She had to put her spoon down and raise her napkin to her mouth to muffle her laughter.

"Oh, Harry! The magical lecture circuit! If only we had one, something to help us keep learning after Hogwarts.

"We did see Draco and Astoria last week, in Diagon Alley. Draco was quite the gentleman. He called me Aunt Andromeda. He asked if I knew Astoria, who of course I do know, but he wanted to introduce us, and he talked about their engagement, and gave me all the news, without inviting me to anything. I got the impression he wanted to, but I suppose Narcissa is a consideration. Teddy was Cousin Teddy throughout. I think Astoria even used Cousin Teddy once.

"Can I just mull this a little longer? I haven't thought of myself as a Black for years and years. The war caused me a lot of grief, and my sisters were on the side that cost me my husband and daughter."

"Of course," Harry said. "Voldemort cost me my family, too. Mum, Dad, Sirius, then Remus and Nymphadora, who had become like family. You've done so much for Teddy, Andromeda. I want him to have that Cousin Teddy experience. I suspect we both do. Take all the time you need."

Harry sent an owl to Gringott's with a note for Whetstone. He asked Whetstone to get him copies of the Potter Manor magical survey and magical abstract documentation, along with that of any dependencies. He said once the documentation was available, he'd like to tour the property with Whetstone, or a knowledgeable delegate. He added that he had visited the site of the now-destroyed manor, and was interested in establishing a permanent dwelling on the site.

Whetstone replied by owl the same day, promising to have the documentation ready, and offering to accompany Harry personally, at Harry's convenience. Harry made arrangements with his director, and Whetstone, to depart early on a Friday in early December. After taking the private floo connection to Gringott's, Harry found Whetstone waiting in the main lobby.

"Mr. Potter, how good to see you," Whetstone said, extending his hand. "Let me introduce you to Burr, a surveying and geological specialist who is well and favorably known to Gringott's. I've asked Burr to come along with us to make sure I do not give you inaccurate information, out of ignorance."

"Very pleased to meet you, Burr," Harry said as he extended his hand to the goblin. "Harry Potter."

"Mr. Potter," Burr replied.

"There is an apparation point, just this way," Whetstone advised, conducting his charges out of the lobby.

The apparation point was on a small, semi-enclosed balcony on the rear of Gringott's bank building. Harry knew the site of the manor, and took the two goblins with him by side-along apparation.

When they arrived, Whetstone removed a large envelope from inside his jacket, untied the string closure, and pulled out a survey. He handed the envelope to Harry.

"The magical abstract is in there, Mr. Potter," Whetstone said. "You can have the survey as well, when we are finished. Now, Burr, let's take a look, shall we?"

Burr took the survey from Whetstone and folded it into a manageable size with the practiced hands of a goblin that had spent a long life outdoors, functioning in environments lacking tables, chairs, or even structures. Harry put the envelope inside his jacket.

"Yes, the homesite, and the Dart over there, roughly three miles I'd say. That's North, so East, West, and South. The homesite is this parcel here," Burr said, holding the map for Harry and outlining the boundaries with his finger. Harry followed the line on the survey. He had used surveys as tools in investigations a few times, but Harry had never taken a formal course in magical surveying. He knew the arcane symbols looked familiar, but had always had an expert around to interpret the notations and connect them with the subject under investigation.

"The boundary of the manor separates it from the other parcels that make up the estate," Burr said. "Whetstone can tell you in detail what those are and to what use they're being put, pasture, cultivation, forest, and so on. This is a quarry here," he continued.

"Whetstone, what do you know about the quarry? Is it active?"

"They quarried limestone, a nice, gray, fine-grained stone. It is not active at the moment," Whetstone replied.

"The last time I visited, Mr. Greengrass showed me the way to The Mill. Is that it there?" Harry asked.

Burr looked at the spot on the survey where Harry laid his fingertip.

"Yes, excellent, Head Auror. We should bring you on as a survey trainee. The Mill is a separate parcel according to the key. It was attached to the Potter estate following acquisition by one of your forebears, apparently. You might want to explore getting some legal advice, if the magical abstract is unclear. Entailments are quite common with these estates. There may be things you could do on one part of your land that you can't do, at The Mill, for example," Burr said.

"Now, a rough estimate, you understand, Mr. Potter, but I think the boundary is about ten miles. This side around two miles, this around three, then the others, more or less equivalent. You have no parcels belonging to others in the interior of your land, and just two places where adjoining parcels make significant indentations," said Burr.

"Is there anything either of you believe we should see, while we're here? I've been to The Mill. If there isn't some reason not to, I want to get it thoroughly cleaned, have the exterior stucco repaired, and see about getting it habitable, at least for short stays. It would be handy if I do decide to construct something here. Now, Whetstone, to whom do I speak about the quarry? Building with limestone from the estate appeals to me," Harry said.

"Gringott's has business relationships with goblins who operate quarries," Whetstone said. "You are not obligated to use them, but the concerned branches of Gringott's have confidence in them. The quarrying community is a branch of the goblin miners."

"You've just taken the first step, Mr. Potter. Now you'll want to study the magical abstract. Lord Greengrass has done a great deal of magical architecture. It would be a good idea to talk to him at length about the process of magical construction. You will save yourself much time if you take everything in sequence and avoid backtracking," Whetstone said. "If you have questions, please ask. Gringott's is at your service. You will learn a lot from the magical abstract. Magical real estate can get very complicated. Think what one unbroken curse could do to a property."

Harry remembered Kendra's recommendation that he engage Bill Weasley to give the place a good going-over, before he made too many commitments. He'd meant to owl Bill before now. Harry resolved to do so as soon as he got back.

"One last thing," Harry said. "Can I come back, on a Saturday or Sunday, and walk it all? I think I can navigate with the survey."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Whetstone assured him. "You own everything shown on the magical survey drawing. Some of the fields are rented, so you wouldn't want to disturb anything that was planted. There may be winter crops in some of the fields, wheat, for instance.

"Let's see," Whetstone continued, "Yes, the lanes can take you completely around the perimeter, except here, where you don't own this parcel, and the lane goes out and around."

Whetstone pointed out on the surveyor's drawing where lay the field he described.

"Excellent," Harry said, folding the drawing. "If there isn't anything more, you've been very generous with your time, and given me plenty to study. I look forward to becoming expert in magical land practices."

"We'll be interested in your progress, Mr. Potter," Whetstone said. "Gringott's is only successful if our clients achieve their goals."

Harry and the goblins returned to Gringott's. Harry shook hands with Burr and Whetstone, then utilized the Gringott's One fireplace, and floo'd to Harry's Flat.

Harry went to the drawer where he kept stationery and chose a card and envelope. He sat down at his dining table with his quill and ink and wrote a note to Bill Weasley.

"Bill," he wrote. "I need to consult with you, and possibly utilize your professional services. Do you have time for lunch next week?"

Signing it "Best, Harry," he addressed the envelope, took it to the window, stuck his wand out, and waited for an owl.

After he'd despatched the note to Bill Weasley, Harry thought it would be wise to contact Daphne and see what she had on her mind. Considering the time, it seemed logical to assume that Daphne was at Greengrass Manor, bent over a planning calendar with Astoria and Kendra. Harry knelt in front of his fireplace, threw in a pinch of floo powder, and said, "Greengrass Manor…Hello?"

"Hello, Harry?" came an answering voice. Mature, female, Harry guessed it was Kendra.

"Mrs. Greengrass, I was wondering if Daphne was there, or if you know where she is," Harry asked.

"She isn't here, and she isn't with you. If you're at the flat, my first guess would be #12 Grimauld Place," Kendra said.

"Thanks, I'll give it a try," said Harry, signing off.

He walked to his apparation point, and a moment later arrived on the front step of #12. Kreacher was opening the door as Harry arrived on the top step.

"Welcome, Master Harry, tea is steeping, can I bring you a cup? Miss Daphne is in her study," Kreacher said.

"A cup of tea would be most welcome," he said as Harry knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Daphne from inside.

Harry opened the study door and entered.

"You look so perfect in this room," Harry said.

"Doing my thank-you's, and invitations?" Daphne asked.

"Okay, you do have me there," said Harry. "Regular sensitivity workshops may be indicated, in a case as intractable as mine. Twice weekly, to start, I think.

"Now, who is this distinguished matriarch you have here on this wall? She does look very comfortable, like she has landed where she truly belongs."

"POTTER!" Walburga said. "I find that as I advance in age, the company of a single civilized, that is to say, Slytherin witch, is more agreeable than being a spectacle on public display."

"We just want to have you in our family," Harry said.

Daphne took Harry's hand.

"We'll be back, Madame," Daphne said. "Harry, I think I've solved our space problem. We won't have any trouble as long as Astoria and Draco stay under one hundred attendees."

She led him out into the hall.

"The second drawing room is available. It was such a sight, that old furniture, and those drapes!"

"But the tapestry…" Harry began, as they entered the room. Harry looked around. All the old furniture and the funereal drapes were gone. Hermione had stayed with the emerald green she had used upstairs in the master bedroom. Something told Harry he might as well get used to seeing it, as it was obviously Daphne's first choice in interiors.

"The tapestry," Daphne said, stretching out her arm.

"Merlin," said Harry, some amazement in his voice. "Andromeda, and Ted, Remus and Tonks are there, they used Nymphadora, oh, boy, Tonks wouldn't like that, and there is Teddy. And Sirius is back. That is some magic."

"I came in to size up the space, and it was done. Lord Black," Daphne said, reaching out and putting her arm around Harry's waist. "I think it may be time you invited our estranged sisters over for tea."

"Your calligraphy is better than mine," Harry said. "Why don't we repair to your study and owl us some invitations? What would you think of asking Astoria to come? We'll sit everyone down with some tea and biscuits, set a civilized tone, then we'll take the lot in and let them draw their own conclusions. I think Andromeda is ready to reconcile with Narcissa."

"I like that idea, Harry, Narcissa won't want a scene in front of Astoria," said Daphne.

"Let's do it, then," said Harry. "The sooner the better. Tomorrow? Two o'clock?"

"What about Teddy? Andromeda won't want to leave him alone," Daphne noted.

Harry thought it over.

"What would you think, if we invited Teddy, and we all get here and are stiff with each other, then I take Teddy to the dojo, and we work out with the mannequins, and you sit down with Astoria, Andromeda, and Narcissa in your study? We'll give you half an hour to work on them, then we'll come back downstairs and knock on your door?" Harry asked. "If they're playing nicely, we'll smile some encouragement. If not, we'll break it off and let things stew a little while longer."

"It could work. It all depends on whether they want to be sisters again," said Daphne. "They might not know the answer to that themselves, until they see one another."

"Done," said Harry. "Let's go compose some ladylike notes."

The owls were despatched, and Harry turned to Daphne. He held up his right hand, with his first and second fingers crossed. Daphne looked back at him and rapped her knuckles on her desk.

"Do you have a dinner date?" Harry asked. "This is London. We ought to be able to find a kabob or some Thai, somewhere. The Leaky Cauldron is trying to get the kitchen well-smoked and greased again, we could go help with that."

"All good ideas. Kendra and Fabio will feed us if you feel like a manor house dinner," Daphne offered.

"Someone has to decide," Harry said.

"Pick someplace," Daphne said.

"I asked you out, so it's my treat, and you get to choose," Harry insisted.

"I cede to your lordship," Daphne returned.

Harry looked at her. "One of us has to give in."

Daphne looked back, not saying a word.

Harry held out his hand. Daphne took it. They walked into the fireplace in the little study.

"Leaky Cauldron," Harry said, dropping some floo powder.

The pub was well-populated, but there were a few tables available. Harry looked at the bar and saw Neville. He led Daphne over, and they squeezed between two patrons.

"Anyplace okay?" Harry asked, once everyone had exchanged greetings.

"Anyplace, take your pick," Neville said. "No reservations tonight, catch as catch can."

Harry looked at Daphne.

"The little booth by the fire," she said. "I've always thought it was the coziest."

They took opposite sides in the booth, which had been built onsite and fitted into a spot that was too small to accommodate a full-size booth. Harry liked it because it gave him a view of most of the pub, the street door, and the back door that led to Diagon Alley.

Hannah came out of the kitchen and saw Harry and Daphne.

"Be right back," she called out, and bustled off with both arms loaded with multiple plates and platters.

Relieved of her load of food, Hannah made her way back to Harry and Daphne.

"Great night," Harry said in greeting.

"Isn't it? The kitchen is humming. When we closed for those two days over the ball weekend, the elves made a bunch of improvements. The food is coming out faster, and it is supposed to be better, according to the regulars. I have my doubts. It's still pub grub, but I don't argue. I'm looking for some additional staff," Hannah told them.

"You've assumed responsibility for a landmark," Daphne said.

"Tonight's menu," Hannah recited. "Meatless bean soup with corn muffins, grilled trout with baked potato, house salad, large or small, roast beef on a Mad Monk baguette with lettuce, onion, tomato optional and potato salad on the side. Dessert is cheese cake with a mint sauce and don't say anything until you've tried it. Also, a house-made mango sorbet that the elves came up with on their own."

"The bean soup, and a small house salad," Daphne said.

"Roast beef sandwich, with everything, and a butterbeer," said Harry.

"Butterbeer," Daphne added.

"Coming right up," Hannah said, turning toward the kitchen.

"In all the excitement," Harry said, "I forgot to mention this."

He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the envelope Whetstone had given him. He opened it, pulled out the magical survey and abstract, and unfolded them on the table between himself and Daphne.

"We had a little field trip this afternoon. It appears I own a mill, and a limestone quarry. Gringott's has relations with some goblin quarry-…well, they wouldn't be quarrymen, exactly, but you get the idea. I need to talk to Mr. Greengrass and find out who can give me some expert advice on building with stone. Whetstone says the quarry produced a fine-grained limestone, but I don't know if that is building material or not."

"Merlin, Harry, how big is this place?" Daphne asked, looking up from the survey. "The distances on this side add up to miles, plural."

"Roughly two miles by three. This field here isn't part of the estate," Harry said, pointing to the indentation, "but the lane departs here, follows the field, and rejoins the estate here.

"This is the mill, with a pond, and the quarry is here. This is the boundary for the homesite, where we were with Mrs. Greengrass."

Hannah brought their meals, and Neville came over with butterbeers. Harry folded the magical survey and abstract and returned them to the envelope.

After thanking Hannah and Neville, Harry and Daphne turned to their food.

"We'll need to go over those more thoroughly. I haven't even looked at the abstract yet," Harry said. "It should tell us how the estate was put together, and when.

"How's the soup?"

"Perfect," Daphne said, "and the muffins are a match, also perfect."

"Think we've got owls waiting for us?" Harry asked.

"Wouldn't doubt it. Whether we want to read what they've brought is an open question," Daphne allowed.

"All we can do is try. If it's too late for Andromeda and Narcissa, that's too bad. Maybe we can facilitate better relations elsewhere. Andromeda felt a definite thaw when she ran into Draco and Astoria," Harry said.

"We'll see," said Daphne. "So you want to go back to Grimmauld Place and check for owls?"

Harry nodded. "If it's okay with you. What did you want to do with the rest of Friday night?"

"Take you to Greengrass Manor and try out your room," Daphne replied.

Harry stared.

"Okay," he said, finally. "I have to go to the ministry in the morning if we're going to have tea in the afternoon."

"The elves know how to tell time," Daphne said.

When they finished their meals, Harry did a little mental math, adding the prices from the blackboard, and what he thought was the price he had paid for butterbeer previously. He pulled out all his sickels and saw he was a few short.

"Got any sickels on you?" he asked Daphne.

Daphne reached inside her cape and withdrew a little coin purse, which she opened with a 'SNAP.' She poured the sickels and knuts out into her palm, and handed them to Harry, who picked through the coins until he had what he had figured was the approximate cost of the meals and butterbeers. Harry waved at Hannah as they stood up, and left the sickels on the table.

Daphne took Harry's hand as they stepped into the fireplace, dropped the floo powder, and said, "Grimmauld Place," resulting in a WHOOSH as they departed. Stepping out of the fireplace in her study, Daphne walked to the window and let two owls in.

"Can I do that?" Harry asked.

"What, let the owls in? Isn't that a little, what's the word, _proprietary,_ Lord Potter-Black?"

"No, not let the owls in, take the floo network to this fireplace. Can I do that?" Harry asked.

"Hmmm…That is a good question," Daphne said. "I just did it the first time, and came to this room. Have you ever used the floo network to come and go?"

"No," Harry said. "I have always apparated to the steps, or from them. If I go out to someplace close by, and it's a good day to walk, I might cast a little occlusionary charm for the first couple of blocks. After that I'm anonymous anyway."

"I don't know, Harry, but I think we might want to wait until we learn more about the house before you try it. Madame Walburga told me the study has wards. She said they would be lethal for anyone trying to get to me for the wrong reasons. I don't know what that means, exactly, and we have never gotten back to the subject."

Harry mulled that over while he untied a rolled parchment from one of the owl's legs.

"We should probably fix that little gap in our knowledge, soon," he said.

Daphne nodded. She also had a little piece of parchment in hand, having relieved the other owl of his message. Daphne opened a drawer in her desk and removed a glass storage dish. She set the cover on the desk and got two generous pieces of jerky out for the owls.

"They'll get fat," Harry observed.

"It's winter, Harry, and they need their heat," Daphne advised.

"Let's see, mine's from Narcissa, she's accepting. Not delighted or thrilled, it appears," Harry reported.

"Andromeda and Teddy accept," Daphne said.

"Do you think they suspect?" Harry asked.

"They're skilled witches, Harry, don't forget. I will assume they do. If they are surprised when they get here, we may have to improvise. I don't think either one of them would want Astoria and Teddy to see them out of sorts," said Daphne.

"Now, let's inform Kreacher we'll need the components of the most gracious tea ever served ready tomorrow at two."

"Kreacher," Harry called.

"Kreacher is here, Master Harry, and good evening Miss Daphne," the elf said.

"Kreacher, we're going to have guests for tea tomorrow, starting at two," Daphne said. "We'll start in the salon. A little conversation. Mineral water will be sufficient. The better crystal, some lemon wedges, if you please. We'll need some of the brown nutbread, with butter, a little marmalade, some cookies, biscuits, and a pot of Master Harry's tea, starting at two-thirty, here in the study. There will be a total of six, including Master Harry and myself, but only four in the study for tea."

"Very well, Miss Daphne, Kreacher will have everything ready," Kreacher said.

"Do you need anything, Kreacher? Is everything here, or can you get it?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Master Harry," said Kreacher, "The kitchen is well-stocked."

"Thank you Kreacher, that will be all," Daphne said, and the elf disapparated with a 'pop.'

"What do you need for the morning?" Daphne asked Harry.

"Some of the stuff that's already there," Harry said. "I'll stop by the flat and get into my suit on the way to the ministry."

Daphne picked up her cape and put it on, then reached for Harry's hand. They stepped into the fireplace, Daphne dropped her floo powder, and said, "Greengrass Manor."

Once again, they WHOOSHED to the manor, exiting the floo network via the library fireplace.

When they got to Greengrass Manor, Harry and Daphne found no one in the library, so they continued on to the main hall, checked Fabio's office and found it empty, and ended up in the sunny room next to the patio. Fabio, Kendra, and Astoria were all sitting in chairs grouped around a small end table. The table held coffee and tea cups, and a small plate with a wedge of cheesecake awaited Fabio's attention.

"Hullo, all," Daphne said as they entered. She crossed the room and kissed Kendra on the cheek, then Astoria, then gave Fabio a hug.

"Harry!" said Fabio. "Come in, sit down. Coffee? Tea? Butterbeer? How is it going? Did you get the magical survey and abstract for your property?"

Harry reached inside his jacket and pulled out the envelope that tied with string.

"Care to take a look? This is what Whetstone gave me. I went to the manor with him and a magical survey and land specialist named Burr. Very informative. I hope to go back soon and walk the perimeter. Between crime, the magical social calendar, and winter weather, it may be April or May before that gets done," Harry said.

Fabio had opened the envelope and begun to pull the survey and abstract out.

"Let's go over and use this table," Fabio said. "Then we can open everything up and spread it out."

He indicated a rough plank table that sat against one wall of the sunny room, out of the way. Fabio opened the survey to its full size.

"Nice-sized piece around the house, and here's the mill. Then there are the fields, which are the parts of the estate that are rented, presumably," Fabio said, as much to himself as to Harry.

"This, they tell me, is a quarry," Harry said, pointing.

Fabio looked at the key, comparing symbols.

"So it is," Fabio said. "Do you know what they took out of there?"

"Whetstone said it was a fine-grained limestone, but the quarry hasn't been worked for some time. I was hoping you could tell me a little about building with limestone. There is something about building a house with stone from the local quarry that is very appealing. I don't know why, something about being able to walk to the quarry and say, 'This is where the stone for the house came from.'"

"You've undoubtedly used limestone in potions at school," Fabio began. "It has all kinds of uses. Farmers spread lime, or crushed limestone, on fields when they need to counteract excess acidity in the soil. Limestone makes great pavers for flat areas, patios, walkways, and so on. For use in construction, one wants to test the load-bearing capacity of stone from the quarry where the building material will come from.

"Limestone from a given quarry could be denser or less dense than from one a few miles away, so you might have a stone that is fine for cladding but you wouldn't want to pile too much up on it or the ones at the base could fail. Same for the reaction of acid to the limestone. Limestone is mainly calcium so if the soil or groundwater is highly acidic, it will react with limestone blocks, if those are used for the foundation. In that case you can do the foundation in one material, then a few feet above ground, the builder can switch over to limestone. Or, the builder can build the structure with brick, then use limestone for the weather surfaces.

"Magical architects can arrange for the testing, or you can ask Whetstone for some references. Goblins will end up doing the actual tests, in any event," Fabio said. "Goblins love to work with rocks."

Harry and Fabio pored over the survey for several minutes. Then Fabio turned to the magical abstract. Magical abstracts were just like their non-magical counterparts, in that they showed how land titles had changed over time, as parcels were broken up, combined, sold, subdivided, lost to foreclosure, and so on.

In addition, properly-recorded magical events were reported in the abstract, curses discovered and broken, wizarding family lines joined, the struggle to evict a dragon that just couldn't keep to himself.

"Harry, did you know you were a Peverell?

"I did, but the connection is vague. Too many generations. I go back to Ignotus, somehow, through my dad, that's all I have been able to establish," Harry said.

"Interesting," said Fabio. "It appears The Mill came to the estate with Iolanthe Peverell. Iolanthe married Hardwin Potter and brought The Mill to the marriage. Isn't that something? That parcel, at least, has been in magical families for centuries, maybe more."

Harry resolved to spend some more time reading the abstract as soon as his schedule calmed down. At the very least he would learn more about his Potter ancestry. With no parents or grandparents to tell him stories while he was growing up, Harry was always keen to discover new sources of information about his antecedents. The abstract itself would also be a family record, as Fabio had just shown, and would provide leads to new subjects, including ancestors of whom Harry was ignorant.

Fabio snapped back into his role as host.

"Harry, we didn't get you anything to drink! What do you want? Trix!" Fabio said.

"Trix is here, Master Fabio," said the elf.

"Master Harry needs a beverage, what'll it be, Harry?"

"Tea would be fine," Harry said.

"We'd better re-join, Harry, and have a little family time," said Fabio, dropping his voice. "Do you want these right back? I'd love to look at them some more, tomorrow."

"Keep them as long as you want," Harry said. "My time is fully booked for several more weeks. Once you've extracted everything you can, I'd appreciate a seminar. This is all new to me. A short time ago I was a normal London flat-dweller, and grateful I had what I had.

Harry lowered his own volume to match Fabio's. "For the record, I'm always ready for family time. I grew up with a deficiency, and I'm still trying to catch up."

Fabio and Harry rejoined the little group of witches near the windows.

"Daphne has been bringing Astoria and me up to date on your Black project, Harry," Kendra said. "For what it's worth, you have our full support."

"Does he?" Fabio asked. "What am I supporting? Not that I don't trust your instincts on these matters, Kendra."

"That's nice to know, Fabio," Kendra said, smiling. "Harry and Daphne are trying to bring their interpersonal skills to bear on some peacemaking. Astoria will be joining them tomorrow for tea, along with Narcissa, Andromeda, and Teddy."

Fabio's lower jaw literally dropped. He stared at Harry, then at Daphne, then turned his face back toward Harry.

"Are you really?" he asked, his voice a chord of disbelief, awe, and wonder.

"Well, it's beyond me how you two came up with such an idea, but if you can bring it off, you'll be the talk of the town. Let me modify that: you'll be the talk of the wizarding town. Whatever got into you to make you think you can do such a thing?"

Harry laughed out loud.

"I know," he said. "Madame Walburga's portrait was initially opposed…"

"Didn't she have Andromeda blasted off her famous tapestry?" Fabio interrupted.

"It's been repaired," Daphne said. "Harry told the portrait he wished it to be repaired, and I went in the second drawing room today, and it's done. Andromeda is there, and Ted Tonks, and Nymphadora, Remus Lupin, and Teddy. Repaired, and updated. Sirius is back, too. We're hoping that means all parties around #12 Grimmauld Place have reached consensus. Now, if Narcissa and Andromeda can start fresh, Harry will have something like a Black family to lead."

"I hope it works out," Fabio said.

"Me too," Harry said. "If it doesn't, we might as well declare the Blacks extinct and go on to other projects. It's up to them. Bonds between siblings can be strong, but theirs have had more strain put on them than most."

Astoria and Daphne looked at each other.

"Are you going to break up with me if this doesn't work?" Astoria asked.

It took Daphne quite a while to stop laughing at Astoria, her question, and the look on her face.

"I hope we don't rise to the level of strain Harry was talking about," Daphne finally managed to get out. Even Kendra laughed at the banter. Harry happened to be looking at Fabio and he caught him sending a wink Kendra's way.

"Who's up for a little mango-orange sorbet?" Kendra asked. "Something light and refreshing from the elves?"

All agreed that sounded like a capital idea, and Trix soon had everyone fixed up with fresh tea, sorbet and two little cookies each. Kendra related the story of the elves making the most of a short supply of both oranges and mangoes when they needed to prepare a dessert for a luncheon Kendra hosted some years prior. The resulting blend went over so well it became a signature dish at Greengrass Manor.

"Here's a plan," Harry said. "If you hear Fortescue's is for sale, I want to buy it. Then I'll retire from the ministry, and sell elf-made sorbet in Diagon Alley. Gringott's will have to expand the vaults to hold all the profits."

"I think Harry likes, it, Mother," Astoria commented, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Strictly business," Harry said. "Foregone conclusion."

"And for me," said Kendra. "Fabio and I are following on a night of dining and dancing, and I'm still catching up. Fabio?"

Fabio didn't seem to be in any hurry to head upstairs and get to sleep. Perhaps he didn't feel depleted by his night of dining, dancing, and raffle-watching.

"Fabio?" Kendra said, in a tone that turned the question into a declarative sentence.

Fabio, after years of training, complied, reserving the right to ask Kendra what was going on, as soon as they got upstairs to their suite.

Daphne winked at Harry. Astoria caught on.

"Are you two staying here? Is Harry going to use his room? Oh, you two!" Astoria almost squealed with delight. "You're really a couple, aren't you?"

"Astoria!" Daphne pleaded. "Can you just…"

"I'm sorry, Daphne, sorry, Harry, it feels different somehow, with you both staying upstairs in our house together. It's like you're really official, or officially real, in a way," Astoria said, clearly having trouble articulating her views on the matter.

"Thank-you, Astoria. That's a vote of confidence," Daphne said. "Now that we have been officially declared, by my sister, are you ready to go up, Harry?"

"Of course, if you are," Harry said. Reflecting on the moment later on, Harry wondered how he had had the presence of mind to be that wordy, because his thoughts felt like they were made of mush and the only word he seemed to have ready at hand sounded like 'Aahhh…aahhh…' inside his own head.

Later, Harry and Daphne talked quietly, waiting for sleep.

"I hope this works," Harry said.

"It is pretty audacious," Daphne replied.

"I don't have any brothers or sisters," said Harry. "But, I have spent a lot of time with the Weasleys, and I watched them closely. I watch you and Astoria, too. I'm counting on Narcissa and Andromeda."

"To do…?" Daphne said.

"I'm counting on them preferring to have their sister back, if given the choice. My part is to give them the choice. That's all I can think of to do. I'm counting on the bonds between them being strong enough to assert themselves and make those two do what they ought to do," Harry said. "I don't want Teddy to grow up separated from what little bit of close family that is left. I did enough of that for the two of us. Sorry, we aren't here for me to make speeches and you to listen to them."

"Oh, Harry," Daphne said. "You amaze me. I get paid to listen to people, but if you want to know the truth, I'd probably sit on a park bench and listen to people for free. Much of what I hear can be quite tedious, but listening is necessary if I'm going to help my patients. Now you, you don't seem to be capable of saying anything tedious. What you call a speech is really almost terse. I like to listen to you talk. I don't hear the things you say anywhere else."

Harry rested his weight on his elbow and leaned toward Daphne. He could barely discern her face in the light from the night sky.

"We do have to get to sleep," Harry said.

"I know," said Daphne.

"Busy day tomorrow," he observed.

"It will all get done," Daphne assured him.

"I really like my room," Harry said. He lowered his head and kissed Daphne on her lips.

"G'night," he said.

Daphne rolled closer and buried her head where Harry's neck met his shoulders.

"Mmm-mmm," she replied.


	15. Chapter 15

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Fifteen

A Saturday With Lots to Do

Saturday morning arrived, and Harry, as it turned out, did not need the wakeup call from the elves that Daphne had promised. He attempted to rearrange himself in a more comfortable position, because he had determined that he didn't _quite_ feel like getting out of bed _just_ yet, and found his foot immobilized by something heavy. The heavy thing was surprisingly warm. He didn't remember anything down at his feet when they'd gone to bed Friday night.

Making as little noise as he could, and moving slowly, Harry located his glasses on the table beside the bed. He slipped them on and raised up to see what was on his foot. Harry was quite startled to see a really big cat was using his foot and lower leg for a pillow. The cat was curled up in a tight, sleeping-cat ball, its head propped so it faced Harry, and its two dark yellow eyes looking straight at the head of the bed.

Harry assessed Daphne had transformed into a lynx, and was doing some of her independent field research, on utilizing human anatomy as an aid to lynx sleep. He pulled his foot from under the lynx' head, slowly, so as not to startle her.

"I'll just…" Harry said as he pointed toward the bathroom door. When he returned, Daphne sat on the edge of the bed, yawning, stretching, wearing the crimson-and-gold terry bathrobe.

Standing up, Daphne pointed at the bed.

"Stay," she said, and went into the bathroom, returning a minute or two later.

Harry had laid back, head on pillow, complying with her last instructions.

Daphne threw the blankets back and pushed Harry toward the middle of the bed. She climbed in and knelt beside him.

"Did I frighten you?" she asked.

"More like startled," Harry replied. "I was taken by surprise. I don't think it's possible to mentally prepare for seeing those eyes in a dark room."

Daphne thought that was funny, and gave a little laugh. She leaned forward, reached up, and took the bridge of Harry's glasses between her thumb and forefinger. She pulled his glasses off, slowly, surely, as if she were performing surgery, and laid them back on the nightstand.

"Ever since the first time I successfully changed my form, I've wanted to know what it feels like, to wake up as a wild cat, with Harry Potter in my den. Didn't share my idea with Professor MacGonagall, of course, so I'd appreciate you holding that part in confidence."

"Now that you know…" Harry began.

"Oh, yes, it felt really good," Daphne said, and she leaned down. The bathrobe hit the floor while she still had Harry pressed down into his pillow.

"Lots to do today," Harry reminded her, after Daphne gave him his lips back.

"You'll make time for this," Daphne growled.

Freshly showered and dressed in some clothes from his Greengrass Manor closet, Harry headed downstairs to the sunny room by the patio. As he got closer, he picked out the smells of breakfast: porridge, toast, orange juice, coffee. Harry found Daphne and Astoria sitting at the table near the windows that looked down over the gardens.

Some snow had fallen overnight, not much, an inch at most, but it was enough to completely change the colors of the beds that rolled down to the green, which itself was an unbroken blanket of white.

Harry was so taken by the transformed vista that he stood looking out the window.

"Wow," was all he could think of to say.

"Yes, we wait for it every year, don't we, Astoria?" Daphne said. "When we were little we'd make a note on the calendar."

Sharp edges were softened by the coating of snow, contrasting colors muted, and the birds working the ground, where seeds had fallen from dried stalks, were picked out in such detail they could have been static illustrations in a quality bird identification manual. The green, an unbroken, flat, white oval at the foot of the hill, could have been a lake, Harry thought. He wondered if the Greengrasses could turn a snow-covered green into a tropical paradise lake. Some associated feelings returned with no warning, and Harry sought the refuge of a chair, and, if possible, a napkin. The last thing he wanted was an unedited Astoria commentary to start off the day.

"I'm having a poached egg and toast, Harry," Daphne said. "The elves always seem to be able to produce a bowl of porridge, there are muffins, probably some fresh fruit although I don't know what is available this morning. Coffee, tea, orange juice, and mineral water, chilled or ambient."

"Poached egg, toast, coffee," Harry said. Trix apparated beside his chair, snapped her fingers to set a place for him, snapped them again and placed a plate on his placemat.

"Master Harry would not like sausage with his poached egg and toast? Bacon? Ham?" the little elf asked.

"This will be fine, Trix. It looks delicious. I'd take a small mineral water, please. Should have thought of it earlier," said Harry.

"Everyone know the drill?" Daphne asked.

"Harry ought to be at #12 by 1:30, Astoria, by ten of two, please?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

"Nothing complicated, for any of us," Daphne continued. "We sit in the salon, if we make it thirty minutes without a massacre, Harry and Teddy go work out in the gym, and the witches retire to the study. We'll have tea. Astoria will pour, I will pass the plate of cookies, or scones, or whatever Kreacher has for us. We sit there and do little titters of approval, or, interject an encouraging word. Madame Walburga is in the study, now, Astoria, so we will let Her Presence look on, with what we hope will be august silence. We let them do the substance. It is their job to do, not ours.

"Where are you coming from, Astoria?" asked Daphne.

"Here," Astoria said.

"Know where you're going? It was dark, remember," Daphne reminded her.

"I'll leave a few minutes early, just in case," Astoria promised.

Daphne turned and looked at Harry.

"I'll leave from the ministry," Harry said. "I'll apparate to the front step."

"I'll be coming direct from St. Mungo's," Daphne said. "I'll be trying for 1 o'clock, just to allow for contingencies."

Harry finished his breakfast, took a good, long drink of mineral water, and stood up.

Raffles sensed he was leaving and ran over to protest.

"Yes, Raffles, I have to go," Harry explained. "Magical justice waits for no one, least of all an auror who is slow getting away from the starting line."

Daphne got up to walk Harry out.

"Got everything you need?" she asked.

"I need a book on the lynx," Harry said. "Maybe this week I can look in Flourish and Blotts. I'll go by the flat, now, shave, put on a suit, try to remember to take a tie. Then I'll apparate to the ministry, then on to #12 from there. Anything I can do for you?"

"When we get done with Narcissa and Andromeda, we need to discuss one matter that has come up," said Daphne. "Do you know anything about a proposed field trip for two of my patients? I was told I'm supposed to come up with the idea myself, so I'll be positively pre-disposed to approve it."

"Don't know where you would have gotten that, but, no matter. It's a great idea. Tell me when you will be wanting my assistance," said Harry, stopping before the front door and puckering up. Nothing happened, so, eventually, he opened his eyes and saw Daphne standing there, staring back at him.

"Harry Potter," she said. "Your conniving leaves so much to be desired."

Daphne gave him the kiss, at the end, opened the front door, and let Harry go on his way.

The overnight reports Harry read when he got to the office were not so boring this Saturday. There had been some property crime and mayhem, and the only fatality appeared to have been accidentally self-administered, the result of a wizard doing some spellwork beyond his level of competence. While tragic, it was not the kind of misadventure that would require a high level of response from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ministry Public Affairs had kept two or three witches or wizards gainfully employed for many years doing follow-up public information campaigns following such incidents.

Two incidents in the overnight log did stand out. Although details were ambiguous, the bare facts in the initial reports could have been read to indicate a person or persons unknown were dabbling in some dark magic. Harry stopped in the senior duty auror's little office around the corner from the long duty officer's desk.

"I noticed these," Harry said, fanning the two incident reports on the desk.

"Sir?" said the senior auror.

"There isn't anything conclusive, but I don't believe these resulted from everyday, conventional magical practice," Harry said. "I'd like you to flag these in your briefing notes for the next shift. For the rest of the weekend, the aurors need to be alert for anything that could tie these to someone using dark magical techniques. On Monday, I can get senior staff together and we'll take another look at it as a group."

"Would you like me to call some more senior staff in, sir?" the auror asked.

"I don't think so just yet," Harry said. "I don't want to be alarmist. Just cautious. Is the Director in?"

"Not yet sir," the auror said.

"If he comes in, let me know," Harry said. "I'll be in my office for a few hours, if anything new comes up."

"Yes, sir," the auror said. "Thank-you, sir."

Harry left and went to his own office suite. No one was in the outer office, but, then, he didn't expect them to be. People close to him pushed a lot of paper, but they weren't directly involved with the round-the-clock patrol function of the aurors who worked the street.

The usual documentation awaiting signature, or decision-making, waited in Harry's in-box. He tied into the pile with relish. When something arrived for Saturday action, Harry felt there was no reason to allow himself to become bogged down with seeking clearances or consultations. If the infinite wisdom of the universe sent him a paper on Saturday, he believed it was his duty to get it off his desk and out of the aurors' hair, permanently, that very day. He signed and decided at a brisk pace.

Because he recognized he was one of those people who get lost in their jobs to the exclusion of outside concerns, Harry worked with one eye on the clock. He would be in serious difficulties with Daphne if he didn't show up at #12 Grimmauld Place on time. He put down his quill and cleaned off his desk at 12:30. Harry hadn't seen the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, who usually stopped by his office if he was in the building, so he passed by the Director's suite, but found it deserted.

Daphne's Saturday morning was similarly routine. She did rounds, charted her observations, assessed that two patients could definitely be discharged the following week if they did not manifest new symptoms, passed a few words with staff, and judged she was finished for the day around noon.

She thought about trying the Leaky Cauldron because she liked the small house salad for a light lunch, but thought Saturday was probably not the day. Hannah and Neville had made an effort to attract Saturday shoppers from Diagon Alley and had built a real business as a result. Instead, she went down to St. Mungo's cafeteria and asked Faye to bring her a small tossed salad and mineral water.

By some fortuitous alignment of the fundamental forces, Astoria, Daphne, and Harry convened at #12 Grimmauld Place, more or less on time. Daphne brought everyone together in her study, then summoned Kreacher.

"Madame Walburga, are you with us?" Daphne asked, as it appeared Walburga had dozed off.

"I am now," said the portrait, a little grumpily.

"Good," Daphne said. "In accordance with Harry's wishes, we are going to host a tea this afternoon. Our guests will include your nieces Narcissa and Andromeda. Astoria and I will be here, and we will see if the Black family will again be united. It is Harry's wish, with which I concur, that #12 Grimmauld Place will be part of a reconciled and united House of Black. Did I leave anything out, Harry?"

"Nothing. You said it all," Harry replied. "Madame? Anything you'd like to add before our guests arrive?"

"Good luck, Potter. Proof's in the pudding, of course," Walburga allowed.

"Thank-you," Harry said.

Two 'pops' sounded outside the front door, and Kreacher left the study.

Daphne, Astoria and Harry stood and walked down the hall to the salon.

"Madame Andromeda," Kreacher said. "Welcome, and this must be young Master Teddy. Master Harry speaks of you often."

Daphne and Astoria enveloped Teddy immediately. Harry took Andromeda's hand and led her to the salon.

"You came!" Harry said. "Thank-you. Let's go in. What do you think of the salon? This is all Daphne and Kreacher."

"It's not creepy, if you get all the Dark out of it, would you say? This has been here all along, trying to get out from under," Andromeda said, a little surprise evident in her voice.

Astoria and Daphne had Teddy between them.

"Come on in," Astoria said. "They've probably got something you'd like to drink around here. What do you like? Butterbeer, mineral water, hot tea with a little honey, pumpkin juice?"

"I'll take pumpkin juice," Teddy said.

Kreacher entered with a tray holding a bottle of mineral water and some tumblers, which he placed on a low table, then he snapped his fingers and a bottle of pumpkin juice floated in from the hallway. Kreacher caught the bottle, opened it, and poured a tumblerful for Teddy.

Harry started to say, "We can all sit down," when another 'pop' sounded from the front door.

Kreacher left the salon and everyone heard him say, "Madame Narcissa, how nice to see you again, all are in the salon. Please allow me to take your cape."

Daphne walked out to the hall, followed closely by Harry.

"Narcissa, welcome to Grimmauld Place," Daphne said. "Please come on in."

Harry stuck out his hand. "Thank you for coming," he said. "Please come on in the salon. Daphne and Kreacher have made some changes."

Narcissa followed Harry, stopping well short of Andromeda. The two stared at each other across six feet of space, and thirty years of time.

"Andromeda," Narcissa said.

"Narcissa," Andromeda replied.

"And this is Teddy," said Narcissa, "Your grandson. Who's going to be starting at Hogwarts, I understand."

Astoria glided up and slipped her arm under Narcissa's.

"We can sit down," she murmured, gesturing to an arm chair. "Mineral water? Would you like lemon?"

Everyone got seated, and conversation bumped along. No one but Harry sat back and relaxed. Andromeda asked about Astoria and Draco's planning. Narcissa asked about Teddy's wizarding interests, and if he had a house preference. Andromeda asked Astoria if she and Draco had gotten to the point of setting a date for their wedding. Daphne kept an eye on Teddy. She judged he had just about reached the limits of his tolerance for mind-numbing chit-chat and caught Harry's eye.

Mystified at first by her eye-rolls and slight head movements, he eventually got the idea that it was time for him to rescue Teddy.

"Teddy, I've got something I predict you'd like to see," Harry said, standing up.

Teddy jumped up, apparently ready for any relief from the conversation going on around him. They climbed the stairs to the second floor as Harry provided some commentary.

"This is a martial arts gym, it's called a dojo, where I practice, do forms, and so on. It helps me stay sharp so I can re-qualify every year. We'll take our shoes off here…" Harry opened the door to the dojo. "Then we walk in. Stop. Bow. That's it."

Harry showed Teddy some basic forms. They practiced before the mirror until Teddy smoothed out his moves. Harry decided to bring in some assistance.

"Now, we need to hit some targets," he said.

Two mannequins appeared with pads on their shins and hands.

"Now we bow to our opponents," Harry said, and he and Teddy bowed to the bowing mannequins.

"Watch, I'll throw a combination, left-right-left, and a kick. Then you'll do the same," Harry said. "When you have that down we'll keep adding on until you have a full series, offense and defense."

Downstairs, Daphne and Astoria were leading the way to Daphne's study. Daphne stood by the door until everyone was in, then she closed it.

Kreacher had put the tea, cups, nibbles, plates and napkins on the small butler's table that stood against the wall. Astoria went to the table and began pouring tea while Daphne got everyone seated.

"Everyone, thanks for coming," Daphne said. "You've made Harry very happy, just by showing up. Let's enjoy some tea."

"This is good tea," Astoria said. "Where did you get it?"

"Harry went to India, and he found it there," Daphne said. "Ask him for some, he'll probably give it to you."

"It is good," Narcissa said.

"It is," Andromeda agreed. "Why was he in India? I knew he went, but he didn't tell us why."

"Something for work," Daphne said, "That's all I know. We weren't seeing each other at the time."

"Why didn't he marry Ginny?" Astoria asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, they were going together for so long."

"Yes, yes they were, weren't they?" Daphne asked, looking down and picking an imaginary bit of lint from her skirt.

Narcissa and Andromeda burst out laughing.

"So delicate and sensitive, she reminds me of you," Narcissa said.

Andromeda set her saucer and tea cup on the table.

"Oh, I was just thinking the same thing, in reverse," Andromeda said, causing Narcissa to start up again.

When the laughter died down, Narcissa and Andromeda reverted to their reserved, formal demeanors.

Still, something had changed, the laughter had put some hairline cracks in the ice.

"Harry's right. I want my sister back," Andromeda said. "It is not easy being in the same room with you, Narcissa. At the same time…"

"All of that happened a long time ago," Narcissa said.

"It doesn't feel that way to me, when I think of Ted, or I see Dora's face looking out at me from Teddy's," Andromeda said, betraying some agitation. "I know Harry is acting on his own feelings as an orphan, and that he wants something different for Teddy. But I don't know…"

Astoria nearly exploded, taking the other three by surprise.

"Stop! Stop it! You two are breaking my heart!"

Everyone turned to look at Astoria, who was clearly distressed. Her face was flushed and she looked to be on the verge of tears. She reached across between their chairs and gripped Daphne's hand.

"This is what is important," she said. "This is the basis of my existence, not Mother, not Father, and not Draco. I love them, and they love me. They are not oxygen to me. THIS IS!"

Astoria held Daphne's hand aloft and shook it, before giving it back. She got up and hugged Daphne, hard, then rushed from the study.

"Andromeda…" Narcissa began.

"The Blacks kicked me out, Narcissa, not the other way around," Andromeda said in a barely audible voice.

"Daphne," said Walburga.

Daphne caught her meaning immediately. She stood up and reached for Andromeda.

"Can I show you something?" she asked, taking Andromeda by the hand. "Come on Narcissa, you too."

Daphne led them to the door, and down the hall to the second drawing room. Andromeda knew the room held the Blacks' enchanted tapestry, and she paused a beat at the door, but Daphne had her hand, and kept walking. She led them both to a position in front of the tapestry.

"The Blacks want you back," Daphne said, gesturing at the newly-repaired and updated family tree.

Andromeda saw that she was back, Ted next to her, Nymphadora just below, Remus Lupin next to Nymphadora, and Teddy just below them.

Narcissa moved next to Andromeda, slipping her arm around her sister's waist.

"Andy," she said. "Oh, Andy, look at that."

Andromeda teared up. "Cissy," she said, but she couldn't continue. The two sisters stood there, arms around waists, and looked at the family tree. Andromeda, still conflicted, looked back and forth from Ted, to Bellatrix, to Tonks. Decades of unresolved conflict surfaced, and Andromeda sobbed as Narcissa supported her, murmuring to her that it was alright, and that she should go ahead and cry all she wanted.

Daphne caught a glimpse of Harry outside, and slipped, as quietly as she could, from the room. She found Harry in the hall, shoeless, toweling sweat from his face.

"Teddy and Astoria?" Daphne asked.

"Upstairs, kicking dummies," Harry replied. "Astoria walked in, pushed me out of the way, and started up. Guess she had something to get out of her system."

The thumps from upstairs were punctuated with laughter and shouts of "Good one!"

"How'd it go?" Harry asked, as Daphne held the door closed.

"We could be there. Put something on your feet. Come back and see if you can make a sale," said Daphne. She opened the door to the drawing room and went in.

Harry's shoes were just upstairs, so he ran up, put them on, and ran down again. Seeing no one in the drawing room, he continued to the study. He knocked on the door, and entered at Daphne's "Come in."

Andromeda and Narcissa were both flushed and showed signs of just recovering from a little crying.

"You saw the tapestry?" Harry asked Andromeda, who nodded 'yes.'

"Well, in that case, you're back in the family, whether you want to associate with the rest of us, or not," Harry said. "Daphne and I are hosting Astoria and Draco's engagement party here, the week between Christmas and New Year's. You and Teddy will be getting invitations. We hope to see you both here. Teddy isn't required to stay through the speeches, of course."

"How's the tea holding out?" Harry asked.

"I don't need more tea, Harry," Andromeda said. "I just need a little time to adjust. I told you, I haven't thought of myself as a Black for years. I guess I am one though, aren't I?"

Andromeda looked at Narcissa.

"We both are," Narcissa said. "And I really missed being your sister, Andy."

"I missed being yours, Cissy, and we shouldn't be Andy and Cissy in front of these young people. They'll get the idea they can be informal with us. It's unseemly," Andromeda said, puffing up a little.

Narcissa looked at her and had to stifle a laugh, in view of Andromeda's serious demeanor.

"Can I check on Teddy?" Andromeda asked Harry.

"This way," he said, gesturing out the study door. Harry led the way up the stairs. The sounds of thumping and laughter continued growing louder as they got closer to the dojo.

"I don't have pleasant memories of this house, Harry," Andromeda said, "Aunt Walburga, oh, my…Just when we'd start to like her, she'd go off the rails. But you and Daphne have made such a difference. It no longer reeks, at least."

They'd reached Harry's gym. Andromeda looked in at Teddy, who could kick almost as high as his own head, and Astoria, who'd pulled up her skirt a bit to give her freedom to kick along with him. The mannequins were bobbing and weaving, moving the padded targets, and swatting back at feet and fists. Teddy was using the punch-punch-punch-kick sequence Harry had shown him.

Teddy and Astoria were laughing and shouting encouragement.

"Good 'un Cousin Teddy," Astoria said, in appreciation of a particularly vicious kick by Teddy.

"Looks like they're doing fine," Harry observed. "Teddy's got moves."

"It's been so much fun, having a young person in the house," said Andromeda. "You've been great, Harry, someone closer to his age who can take him to Fortescue's or a quidditch match. Pretty soon he'll start at Hogwarts and begin his own journey. He needs a little bigger circle than an old witch and his godfather, doesn't he?"

"It wouldn't hurt, I suppose," Harry allowed.

Andromeda sighed, and turned for the stairs. Harry and Andromeda started walking down.

"We'll accept your invitation, of course. There's nothing to say we can't show up and support Draco and Astoria, just because all of us got crosswise for no good reason. I wish you the best in your project, Harry, although I'm not sure how far I'll be able to go, back into the embrace of the Blacks."

"You've already exceeded any reasonable person's expectations," Harry said when they reached the door to the study. "You go on in and chat up your sister. I'll go do a little coaching, then have Teddy and Astoria back down in fifteen minutes or so."

Harry opened the door for Andromeda, who rejoined Daphne and Narcissa.

Upstairs, Teddy and Astoria were winding down. Harry grabbed towels from the master bath and entered the dojo.

"About done?" he asked. "Let's do a cool down. It's important to take the time to cool down after exercise. It helps avoid cramps, muscle stiffness, and gives you a little while to think about what you've done, what you've done right, what you want to work on tomorrow, that sort of thing."

Harry showed Teddy some low-impact stretching techniques, and Astoria joined in. Harry handed out the towels and everyone dabbed sweat from faces.

"Let's sit," Harry said, motioning Teddy and Astoria to places along the wall. Harry knelt, facing them.

"Teddy, you're going off to school pretty soon. I can tell you from experience, stresses build up at school, especially between young men. You have shown you have some real talent for combat today. I want to help you hone that, so you can make the most of your abilities. But we have to agree, you're learning to defend yourself, and others, not become aggressive, or a bully. This is all about mastering yourself. We only resort to contact with others when we're forced to. Understand?"

"Yes," Teddy said. "Do you use this as an auror?"

"I have," Harry said, "But the whole point is to master the situation so you use the minimal force necessary, or, better yet, appear to so obviously outclass the other person they don't want any part of a confrontation with you. That takes some years of work, but you certainly appear to be capable.

"How do you feel, Astoria?" Harry asked.

"Good, I got all my frustrations out, kicking and punching. We'll have to put in a gym at home," said Astoria.

"Okay, then, let's go check on the party and see what we've missed," Harry said.

Teddy popped up and headed for the door. Harry reached down for Astoria's hand. Astoria stood up and immediately collapsed against Harry.

"Teddy, we need Daphne, right now," Harry called out, as he cradled Astoria, kneeling to lay her back on the floor of the dojo.

Harry heard Teddy's feet hitting the stairs. He folded a towel and put it under Astoria's head. He took her wrist and felt her pulse, not really strong, but steady. She was clearly breathing, chest rising and falling, and nostrils moving slightly with her inhalations and exhalations. Astoria's eyelids started to flutter, then she opened them completely.

"Harry!" Astoria said. "What are you doing here? Where are we?"

"We're at #12 Grimmauld Place, upstairs. You seem to have fainted," Harry said.

"Astoria," said Daphne as she entered. "Have you over-extended yourself?"

"I don't think so," Astoria answered. "We were sitting here listening to Harry dispense words of wisdom, and the next thing I knew, it felt like I was waking up from a sound sleep."

Daphne went through a standard Healer diagnostic and assessment procedure, ending with holding both of Astoria's wrists and taking her pulse for several minutes. She passed her wand over Astoria's face before announcing,

"You're good to try standing up, if Harry will stay on that side."

Harry nodded, putting one hand under Astoria's elbow and his other behind her back. Daphne did the same, and they stood up, bringing Astoria with them. They stayed with her for close to a minute, letting her take her first few steps with them close by, before stepping back.

"Teddy, what happened?" Astoria asked.

"You scared the crap out of us, Cousin Astoria," Teddy replied.

Harry looked at Teddy, trying to project a look that said, 'Okay, that is funny one time, but your gran won't let you come over if she thinks you're getting that kind of language around here.'

He wasn't positive he'd conveyed that thought in its full complexity.

Astoria held the hand rail going down the stairs but didn't show any signs of ongoing problems.

"I'll take her in the salon and get Kreacher to bring her a pumpkin juice," Daphne told Harry. "You and Teddy see to our guests."

Narcissa and Andromeda didn't seem like they needed a lot of seeing-to, as they were chattering animatedly when Teddy and Harry got to the study. Still, the ladies took them in. Conversation mainly concerned the upcoming engagement party arrangements. Narcissa ran down the preparations so far. Invitations would be forthcoming that week, elves in two households were making garlands and wreathes. Seamus and Dean were getting a workout, not just for Draco and Astoria, but for a raft of other wizarding couples who were planning festivities for the season.

Andromeda looked at Teddy.

"About ready to go, lad?" she asked. "We have an appointment in Diagon Alley."

"Of course, Gran," he said. "Do you think we'll have time for Fortescue's?"

"First things first," Andromeda said. "We're going to pick up a robe."

"You're leaving?" Daphne asked as she entered the study.

"Yes, off to Madam Malkin's," Andromeda said. "Thank you for inviting us. We had a wonderful time."

Andromeda stepped toward Narcissa, who was still seated, bent over, and gave her sister an extended hug.

"We'll see you soon?" Andromeda asked, when she'd pulled back.

"Love to, and yes, soon," replied Narcissa.

"Aunt Walburga, are you with us?" asked Andromeda, addressing the portrait.

"Yes, dear," said Walburga.

"Thank you for your help with this. I know you were involved, somehow. I really missed Cissy," said Andromeda.

"Oh, no, Andromeda, it is me who should be thanking you. You don't know what this has done for me, to see you two like this again. And you brought Teddy, and he looks so at home here. I see the House of Black in you, Teddy. I hope I'll be seeing more of you," Walburga finished.

With that, Harry and Daphne accompanied Andromeda and Teddy to the door, where Kreacher had Andromeda's cape and Teddy's jacket ready. After the farewells all around, Harry and Daphne returned to the study. Astoria had come back and was sitting down talking to Narcissa.

Narcissa stood when Harry and Daphne entered.

"I really need to be going, too," she said. "Thank you for today. I didn't think Andy and I would ever be…"

Narcissa couldn't continue. Astoria moved to her side and took her arm.

"I'm glad it worked out," she told Narcissa. "We all are. Now we have everyone we really need for our engagement party, no matter who else comes."

Sentimental as it was, Narcissa seemed genuinely affected by Astoria's comment.

"Aunt Walburga, thank you for helping with this. I know Harry and Daphne had to get you to go along with them," Narcissa said.

"I've been a foolish old witch at times," Walburga acknowledged. "Occasionally, I can be convinced to see the error of my ways."

Astoria walked down the hall with Narcissa.

"Now you've got something to tell Draco about," Astoria said, as Narcissa pulled her cloak around herself.

"Yes, and Draco's father as well," Narcissa replied. "I wonder if we'll be speaking by bedtime?"

This got a knowing laugh from everyone, because, chastened though he was, Lucius Malfoy was still in the grip of his prejudices.

They returned to the salon and everyone found a seat.

"Could I suggest a firewhisky, in view of the momentous nature of what we've witnessed?" Harry asked Daphne.

Daphne looked at Astoria, who shrugged a 'Why not?'

"Three firewhiskies, please, Kreacher," Harry called.

Kreacher appeared with a tray, which he passed around to the three of them.

"House of Black," Harry said, raising his glass.

"Potter," Daphne responded.

"Greengrass," Astoria concluded. "We'll add the Malfoys someday, if they behave themselves."


	16. Chapter 16

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Sixteen

Draco and Astoria Are Official

Harry and Daphne had little time for anything but work and party preparations for the days leading up to the official engagement announcement. Draco and Astoria helped where they could, but there were parallel events for classmates and contemporaries, and their own impending announcement was an open secret among witches and wizards, so they were the recipients of multiple invitations.

This caused some head scratching, and a number of invitations were strategically deflected with regrets. Word had gotten around that the engagement party would be taking place at #12 Grimmauld Place, and the gossip often included detailed descriptions of how Daphne had transformed the funereal gloom Harry had inherited. The historical significance of #12 was well-established, and the connection with Sirius and Regulus added to the allure. Enough time had passed since the end of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and his Dark Army, that memories of the horrors Voldemort perpetrated were fading. Many young people had no actual memories of the death and destruction. Sirius, Regulus, Bellatrix, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, were steadily becoming more romantic myths than reality could support. Weasley's refused to stock Fenrir Greyback posters, but there was more than one magical shop in Knockturn Alley that sold a fair number to young wizards who put them up in their rooms at home.

In short, an invitation to Draco and Astoria's party at #12 Grimmauld Place had become the social talisman of the winter season. Any invitations accepted by Draco and Astoria would entail an expectation for a reciprocal invitation to their party. Narcissa and Kendra were fully on board with Daphne's determination to keep attendance to one hundred. Harry, of course, was completely unprepared. He had no experience with such a groundswell of magical interest in something he was part of, other than some school days heroics on the quidditch pitch. He had always considered his status of Triwizard Champion to be an unfortunate fluke, and he tried hard not to revisit those difficult memories. He had been Ron Weasley's best man when Ron and Hermione were married, but neither of them had been interested in a society event, preferring to go to the registry at the ministry to be united in wedlock, then straight to the Burrow for an evening of feasting, dancing and firewhisky for the extended Weasley network.

Daphne had advised Harry, before the invitations were sent, to consult with his director, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and ascertain if either wished to be invited. Protocol would normally dictate that each would receive an invitation to anything Harry hosted, but the optics of attending held political consequences. Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater, would be in attendance, as would his son, Draco Malfoy, also a former Death Eater. Although both had been rehabilitated and were reintegrated into magical life, Kingsley Shacklebolt had fought Death Eaters for much of his career. Lucius Malfoy had been on the losing side, justifiably so, and magicals old enough to have fought one another were still taking each new step with caution and hesitancy. Harry had hopes that, in addition to giving Narcissa and Andromeda the chance to appear in a semi-public venue together, and thus announce their personal reconciliation, the party would mark another step forward in the general repair of British magical society following the disruption of the Second Wizarding War.

Kingsley determined that he and the Director of Magical Law Enforcement probably should not attend (which was deeply regretted by the director, whose wife had been pestering him to make sure and bring their invitation straight home and not let it get lost in the overflowing in-box on his desk, as so much of a social nature had a tendency to do), but suggested Percy Weasley as a suitable representative. Percy was a Junior Minister, and, as such, would do a credible job conveying Ministerial good wishes on the marriage of Draco and Astoria, without any implication that Kingsley, or Magical Law Enforcement in general, was ready to wink away the perfidy of Dark Army types like Lucius Malfoy.

Daphne and Harry had demanding jobs and responsibilities that could not be finessed, even with the extra help their assistants and subordinates rendered. Tracey Davis stepped into the breach and became the _de facto_ producer of the affair. The spaces where the party would be taking place, the salon, dining room, second drawing room, and the central hall, were festooned with garlands of holly and pine boughs. Mistletoe hung from each lintel. Red and gold ribbon was in short supply in Diagon Alley, and a great holly-and-pine wreath was hung over the fireplace in the salon.

Daphne and Tracey sat together nearly every afternoon, for an hour or more, during the week before the party. They started with confirmations and regrets. There were few of the latter, but those that arrived early on opened up space for additional guests who had not made the first cut. Lists of food and beverages needed evolved as well, as Astoria made adjustments. Harry was in charge of security. The minister had assured him that, in view of the number of distinguished guests who would be in attendance, it was ministerial business to provide a number of aurors. Blaise was able to provide a small contingent of experienced magical bodyguard types as well, revealing yet another facet of his mysterious consulting business.

Harry kept a close eye on the aurors' logs and reports in the days leading up to the party, looking for any sign the event had registered on London's magical miscreant crowd, both straight-up criminals and dark magicals. Merlin knew the event would be a tempting target for both. Just the challenge of mounting a spectacular robbery or attacking the assembled wealthy and influential magical citizens would intrigue masterminds from both camps.

The frenzy of planning and preparing was such that it was a wonder anyone involved had time, or even a thought, for Christmas. Somehow, though, it seemed like presents were purchased and wrapped, trees decorated, and preparations made for significant dinners at both Greengrass and Malfoy Manors. Some intricate footwork let Harry open presents with the Greengrasses, while he was called in suddenly to work a short time before he and Daphne were to depart for Malfoy Manor.

Harry, Daphne, Tracey and the elves converged on #12 Grimmauld Place early on the afternoon of the party. The house had been thoroughly cleaned and polished. Brass shone, the holly and pine boughs complementing the yellow brass. Tiny lights were embedded in the garlands and wreaths and twinkled at random.

One virtue of holding the event at home was that there was no space for dancing, so there would not be a band playing for hours after the official bits and the follow-on reception. Daphne and Tracey drilled Harry on the evening's program, which Harry accepted with good humor. His part of the arrangements, security, was important, but he was a professional, and he would be working through two other professionals, the senior auror, and Blaise' senior operative. They knew their business, and they knew the people who would be reporting to them. Harry had met with them earlier in the week, gone over a detailed drawing of the house, and the general plan for the evening's program. He would, of course, follow up throughout the evening, until the event was concluded, everyone was away, and #12 Grimmauld Place was secured for the night.

Guests began arriving a few minutes before seven. The main rooms filled steadily. Harry and Daphne greeted everyone from the entrance to the salon. Tracey and Hannah took guests, as Daphne handed them off, and conducted them to Astoria and Draco, who were near the fireplace. From there, newcomers were encouraged to go on into the dining room, where a bar had been set up.

A bottleneck soon developed around the bar. It wasn't obvious that the second drawing room was available, so the early-arriving guests greeted their hosts and the happy couple, got a butterbeer or glass of wine, and stood around clogging the exit from the dining room into the hall. Harry spotted the problem as it became tricky handing guests off to Tracey and Hannah. Spotting Teddy helping Kreacher get more ice to the bar, Harry waved him over.

"Teddy, I'm going to give you another job," Harry said. "I want you to stand over there by the door that comes out of the dining room and encourage guests to move on down to the drawing room. Big smile, introduce yourself if you don't know them, and say something like, 'The buffet will be just in here,' and wave them down the hall. We'll see if that helps to keep everyone moving."

Teddy looked eager enough, and Daphne gave him a wink. Teddy took up his position as ordered and began directing traffic. A few minutes later, the clog had been dispersed, and a pattern established. As the crush of new arrivals abated, the guests achieved equilibrium, more or less, and Tracey informed Harry and Daphne it was time to get the formalities underway.

Harry stood next to Draco and Astoria before the fireplace. Tracey had equipped herself with a table knife and a crystal goblet, and gave the goblet a half-dozen vigorous taps.

"For those of you who don't know who I am," Harry began, getting a huge laugh in return.

"What did he say?" asked one elderly wizard, whose hearing was obviously losing the battle with age. This brought on another wave of chuckles from those close enough to hear.

"Welcome to #12 Grimmauld Place, where we have assembled to celebrate the engagement of Draco and Astoria. Daphne and I are delighted you have all come out this evening to wish them well. In addition to Draco and Astoria, who provided the reason for us to get everyone together, the real work was done by Narcissa Malfoy, Kendra Greengrass, and especially Tracey Davis. So make sure you thank them before you depart tonight."

Harry's remarks brought a round of applause and 'Hear-hear's' and a hug for Kendra and Narcissa from their husbands. Tracey, who was normally boisterous, blushed and dropped her eyes, for some reason.

"And with that," Harry continued, "I believe Mr. Lucius Malfoy has some remarks."

Harry had carefully placed himself out of handshaking range so that he and Lucius would not have an awkward moment if either reflexively extended a hand. The reception at Harry's townhouse was a symbolic extension, but Harry wasn't prepared psychologically to shake hands with the man who had stalked him, as Voldemort's loyal servant, putting him in danger over and over.

Harry and Daphne eased away from Draco and Astoria, letting them and their parents have the entire spotlight. Harry saw Teddy standing outside the salon, in the hall, and motioned him over. He put Teddy between himself and Daphne.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Good," Teddy said, nodding.

Daphne laid her arm across Teddy's back and pulled him close. When Lucius concluded his remarks, and everyone had delivered polite applause, Daphne leaned over and said, "Just a little longer, I promise."

Fabio took over. He thanked Harry, Daphne and Tracey for all the work on the party. Then he thanked Narcissa and Kendra, on behalf of himself and Lucius, for the gift of Draco and Astoria, then he welcomed Draco to the Greengrass family, before turning the floor over to Tracey, who asked everyone to be sure and stop in the second drawing room for the buffet. Official proceedings concluded, Tracey waved her wand and a chorus of 'Oooohs' ensued as she cut the lighting by half or more, leaving the twinkling lights in the charmed wreaths and garlands to handle most of the illumination needs.

Harry looked at Daphne, and asked, "Ready?"

"Should be," she said. "Where's Andromeda?"

"Just out in the hall," Teddy said. "Should I get her?"

"We're headed to Daphne's study," Harry said. "Can't let you leave without a photo, now that you're turned out in that new robe. Can you round up your gran and get her to the study?"

Teddy, around three-fifths the size of a fully-grown wizard, easily cut through the crowd. Harry tried to follow him, but got waylaid several times for thank-you's, compliments on the party, and appreciations of his public speaking skills.

Daphne got Draco and Astoria, Lucius and Narcissa, Fabio and Kendra heading in the direction of her study by way of the dining room. Draco and Astoria had to run a gauntlet of outstretched hands offering congratulations, and hugs and kisses from Astoria's multitude of schoolmates.

Eventually, the party assembled around the settee below Walburga Black's portrait. Seamus and Dean had arranged for a magical photographer. The photographer used a specialized magical _camera obscura_. The device could be used for conventional photos as well as portraits, depending on the magical recording medium chosen.

Tracey took charge of arranging participants. She and Daphne had spent an hour with quills and parchment, drawing up lists and sketching arrangements, to arrive at one that satisfied protocol requirements while observing such niceties as not expecting Lucius and Harry to smile while standing too close to one another. Once the group was organized, the magical photographer went to work. The first sitting included everyone, since the marriage was the union not just of the Greengrasses and Malfoys, but the Blacks and Davises as well. Harry, Lord Black, stood before Walburga's portrait, directly behind Draco and Astoria, with Daphne on his left and Teddy on his right. The parents stood behind their children, Andromeda linking arms with Narcissa, and Tracey next to Kendra.

Various parties were shed until Draco and Astoria sat alone.

"Are we done, then?" the photographer asked.

"One more," said Narcissa. "Andromeda?"

The sisters sat down together for a photo, just the two of them, in front of Walburga's portrait.

"Okay, everyone, back to work," Tracey ordered. "We've got a houseful of guests to entertain."

Harry and Daphne waited until everyone had left the study.

"Madame?" Harry asked. "Are you with us?"

"Of course, Potter. I wouldn't miss something like this. When I was alive, I would have said I didn't think I would live to see the day."

"That's a pretty complicated thought," Harry said.

"Maybe you can get your brilliant girlfriend to explain it for you," Walburga suggested.

"Moving on, comments, positive or negative?" Harry asked.

"You can't make a portrait cry, Potter, if that is what you're after," Walburga said.

"Have a pleasant evening, Madame," Harry said, turning to Daphne.

"We haven't been to the second drawing room," Harry said as Daphne closed the door. "Want to go circulate? See how the buffet is holding up?"

"Why not?" said Daphne, turning down the hall.

The buffet was holding up pretty well, actually. Ron Weasley had been reluctant to attend, thinking the old school memories, none of them pleasant, would interfere with the ambiance. Hermione, however, as Head Unspeakable, thought more negative attention and gossip would attach to their not being at a significant Potter event than it would to their attending. Ron, upon discovering the buffet, readily acceded to Hermione's superior knowledge and sensitivity to such matters.

Daphne attached herself to Harry's left arm and steered him over to Ron and Hermione. The three of them had somehow evolved a common strategy for public appearances that amounted to avoiding getting the full group together in one place. Experience had shown that two could sit or stand together and go about their business, but if all three were within conversational distance, before anyone knew what was happening, a crowd had formed to eavesdrop, photograph, or just walk up and introduce itself.

"Hullo, all," Daphne said in greeting. "Thanks for coming."

"Mmmph…" Ron replied, on his and Hermione's behalf, popping the last remaining corner of a scone into his mouth.

"We couldn't miss this," Hermione said. "Harry has been telling Ron about your home improvements, and this was our first chance to see it. It didn't feel right, coming through the hallway without Madame Walburga calling me a mudblood. Where is she, by the way?"

"She's moved to the study," Daphne said. "She keeps me company, and supplies helpful hints, of a household and social nature. She is really quite astute, although, practically everything she says needs translation. I've learned to listen for the kernel inside all the consternation."

"Well, you've done wonders, Daphne," said Hermione. "How you saw the possibilities under all the accumulated centuries of…Let's just say Sirius, when he was here, didn't foresee a lot of potential. Not that he ever spoke of, at least. Astoria looked radiant in the salon, by the way."

"I can't take credit," said Daphne. "That is all Kendra, and Tracey's seasonal décor."

Percy and Audrey Weasley walked up to the group. Percy extended his hand, first to Harry, then Ron, while Audrey bumped cheeks with Daphne and Hermione.

"Didn't get a chance to say much when we arrived," Percy said. "Your pullers were very efficient."

"They have people skills, don't they?" Harry laughed.

"Anyway, thank you for inviting us. I've never seen the place looking like this," Percy said. "I wouldn't have thought it possible. We were talking to Tracey earlier. She doesn't want to take all the credit, but it sounds like she did a lot of work to put this on tonight, and, of course, she's been a masterful mistress of ceremonies."

The group had started to attract the inevitable gawkers, and the crowd was starting to impede access to the buffet. Harry spotted Teddy near the door, and leaned his head toward Daphne.

"Teddy," he said, glancing his way.

Daphne watched him go, then turned back to the group.

"How's it going, Teddy? Had about enough of these old codgers telling you how handsome you are in that robe?" Harry asked.

"Nah. Gran says we're going to go home soon, and I should come pay my respects," replied Teddy.

"Did she?" said Harry. "You don't have to pay your respects to me, although it's nice that you did. Let's go find our guests of honor, though, because I know they'll want to see you before you go."

Draco and Astoria were still in the salon. Someone had thought to bring them mineral water, although it looked like their glasses could use a refill. Astoria sat in a large chair near the fireplace, with Draco standing alongside. A steady stream of well-wishers came to offer congratulations and fond hopes for the future, and to admire Astoria's engagement ring.

Harry waited for his strategic opening, and took it, pushing Teddy forward ahead of himself.

"Teddy tells me he and Andromeda are departing soon. He wanted to come say goodnight."

Teddy shook hands with Draco, and was about to offer his hand to Astoria, when she leaned forward and pulled him close for a little kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for inviting me," he said. "I hope you have happy times."

"Oh, Teddy, I think you might become my favorite cousin, as soon as we're married," Astoria gushed. "Now, I have something for you. Thank you for all your help tonight."

Astoria reached in the bag beside her and pulled out a green box with a red velvet bow on top. Teddy opened it and inside was a crystal paperweight with a magical picture of a waving Draco and Astoria, who were saying "Thank-you" together.

"Do they just keep saying 'Thank-you' forever?" Teddy asked.

"Ted-dee…" said Andromeda as she walked up. "Unnecessary."

Astoria and Draco had both laughed out loud at Teddy's question, so it didn't look like they'd taken offense.

"They stop talking when the activity dies down. It only starts when it senses someone nearby. Any time you want quiet, just put the cover back on the box, and they go to sleep," Astoria explained.

"Thank-you," said Teddy, and got another hug from Astoria.

"Going, Aunt Andromeda?" Draco asked. "Thank-you for coming. We're glad you're here, but Mother…"

"I know," said Andromeda.

"Now, don't make me cry. Thank-you, Astoria," she said, leaning over and giving Astoria a hug.

Politeness dispensed, Harry offered Andromeda his arm and turned for the front door, where Kreacher stood ready with her cape.

"You've made history, Harry," Andromeda said.

"The good kind, I hope," Harry said. "The other gets old, very quickly."

"James was cheeky, but you are raising the bar, Lord Black," Andromeda said, pulling Harry close for a hug. "See you soon."

Harry stood in the doorway as Andromeda disapparated with Teddy. He was closing the door when Blaise suddenly appeared before him with a 'POP.'

"Head Auror!" Blaise said in greeting. "How's the party?"


	17. Chapter 17

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Seventeen

The Party Ends Unexpectedly, for Harry

"Blaise," Harry said. "Welcome. Have you come to join us, or check the perimeter?"

"Do I have to choose?" Blaise asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Harry replied. "The party is proceeding nicely. No inebriated wizards dancing on tables, not yet, anyway. The speeches are over so Astoria and Draco are official. Probably too tame for your taste, but you're welcome to sample it and judge for yourself. Come on in. Have you been here before?"

"Don't think so," Blaise said. "Mum didn't exactly run in the same circles as the Blacks, although she probably would have tried marrying Sirius or Regulus, or both, if they'd been legal when she was on her tear."

"Well, let's walk through then," Harry said. "Here's the salon, and there's our happy couple. You go chat them up while I get you a glass of something. What would you like?"

"Butterbeer, just a small one, if you please, Harry," Blaise said, heading over to Draco and Astoria.

Draco burst into a huge smile when he sighted his fellow Slytherin and Hogwarts classmate.

"I understand congratulations are in order," Blaise said, taking Draco's hand. "And this is the lovely Astoria, whom I don't think I've ever seen in her grownup form."

"Did I emerge from the cocoon while you were distracted? I guess we all have to decide what our priorities are," retorted Astoria. "Someone alluded to some years of world travel, but they weren't very forthcoming with details."

"There's some truth in that, and I'll fill you both in, sometime when we're a little more private. Now, best wishes to you both. Do you have a date for the wedding yet?" Blaise asked.

"Spring," said Draco.

"June," Astoria said, on top of Draco. "I want it at the manor, and the flowers look best around the second week of June."

"June," Draco confirmed. "Second week in June. Definitely."

Blaise was still assessing the changes in Draco, since they'd last met, when Harry arrived with a small butterbeer.

"Ready? We'll tour. Anything for you two?" Harry asked.

"I'd take another mineral water," Astoria said. "Extra lemon. I haven't talked this much since school."

"Kreacher," Harry said.

"Kreacher is here, Master Harry," said the elf.

"Two more mineral waters, with extra lemon for Mr. Malfoy and Miss Astoria, please."

Harry walked off, with Blaise trailing behind.

"Dining room, tonight's bar, which you just saw from the other direction," Harry said as they walked down the hall. "This is Daphne's, it's a little study, a very…ladylike space. Nice for serving tea, writing tasteful notes. This is very old-fashioned, a second drawing room. The old families would use this one and keep the one in front set up for more formal events, receiving non-family visitors, that sort of thing. Something from the buffet?"

Harry and Blaise walked up to the buffet table and perused the offerings.

"I don't even know what's here," Harry said. "They kept making changes, daily, hourly…Those little scones are scones, except the ones that are little pasties, so look for a bit of fat oozing if you want some meat. What's that? Sushi? Sushi, with wizard, witch, and elf involvement. I think I'd want to feed the first one to something else and observe the results, but you use your judgement."

An elf Harry remembered from St. Mungo's arrived with a platter of skewered meat.

"Chicken?" Blaise asked.

"Giant squid," said the elf.

"Where does this go?" Blaise asked, pointing at a pair of French doors toward the rear of the room.

"There's a little townhouse garden, that needs lots of work, but I haven't had time to do anything with it," Harry said. "This room could use some fresh air anyway. Let's go out and take a look at it."

Harry waved his wand at the door hardware and was rewarded with a click. The doors met in the middle of the frame, and Harry freed the latches and pushed them open. A single brick step led down to a flagstone floor, and a generous space with brick beds around a table and chair set. Harry again moved his wand tip and said, "Lumos." Wall sconces began casting subdued light around the garden.

"It doesn't look bad," Blaise said. "At night. With minimal illumination."

"Harry," said a voice from the door. "Private party?"

Harry looked around to see Fabio Greengrass standing on the threshold of the French doors.

"Of course not," Harry said. "Mr. Greengrass, come meet my classmate Blaise Zabini. He's a Slytherin, classmate of Daphne's too, of course."

"I expect we've seen each other on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, then," Fabio began.

"Undoubtedly," said Blaise. "Although I am drawing a complete blank."

"Get used to it," Fabio said. "It keeps getting worse, the older you get. Now, Harry, what are you two doing out here in the weather?"

"Blaise has a company that provided us some help with security tonight, Mr. Greengrass. He's giving me the benefit of his professional perspective on our arrangements," said Harry.

"Oh, I thought you'd come out to join me in a cigar," Fabio said, reaching inside his robe. He withdrew a small case, which pulled apart, revealing four cigars. The pungent odor of serious cigar wrapper reached out to Harry and Blaise.

"I shouldn't," Harry said, breathing in, long and slow, through his nostrils.

"Neither should I, but…" Blaise agreed, inhaling.

Fabio removed one cigar and held it between his fingers.

"Okay," Blaise said, accepting the proffered cigars. He took one from the case and held it under his nose.

"Thank-you," he said. "It's good already."

Harry also took a cigar.

"I knew the witches had left something out, but I couldn't think what it was," said Harry.

Fabio put his cigar case back and produced a cigar cutter from somewhere. He rolled the end of his cigar around between his lips for a bit before inserting it in the cutter and slicing off the end. He handed the cutter off to Blaise and drew his wand.

Turning away from Harry and Blaise, he said, " _Inflammare,"_ and lit his cigar from the flame that burst from the tip of the wand. Blaise was ready by the time Fabio's cigar was lit, and he leaned in to use the flame, followed by Harry. All three wizards took deep pulls on their cigars, making three cigar tips glow brightly in the gloom of the dimly-lit garden. Holding the smoke for a bit, all three tilted their heads back and blew smoke toward the sky.

"Nice," said Blaise. "Thank-you, Mr. Greengrass."

"Very nice," affirmed Harry, "Thank-you."

"Thank both of you for the company. The air was getting depleted of oxygen in there, or the conversations were getting repetitive. One or the other," Fabio said. "Now, Harry, what are you going to do about this garden? This could be a real jewel, with a little planning and elbow grease."

"We needed Neville, didn't we? You two could formulate a plan for me," said Harry.

"Where is Neville?" Blaise asked. "I saw Hannah inside."

"Hannah is inside," Harry said. "And Neville is duty publican. What do you think would grow here, Mr. Greengrass? We get some sunshine, just not a lot."

"There are plants that like that. Hostas are pretty tolerant, for example. Rotating plants in and out works, too. Keep them inside, then bring them out, pots and all. They'll be good for a few weeks before they start showing distress. Then you take them back in to their sunny window. Think like a plant," Fabio advised.

"I wondered where that fabulous aroma was coming from," said a voice, and the three wizards turned to see Ron Weasley stepping down from the drawing room. Ron was reaching inside the jacket of his suit, and eventually produced a cigar tube. He removed the cap from the tube and tilted it toward his free hand, catching the cigar that slid out.

Ron reached into another pocket and came up with a cigar cutter. He looked at Harry and Blaise.

"You guys working?" Ron asked.

"Ah-Uhmmm, Y-e-sss, in a manner of speaking," Harry said.

"Could be, yes, suppose so," Blaise affirmed. "This garden is an approach to your house, Harry."

"You're right, thanks for pointing that out," Harry said.

"We are working, as you just saw," Blaise said.

Ron caught the sliced-off end of his cigar in his hand, held it over a dormant bed, and dropped it.

Harry counted heads, and chairs.

"No need for us to stand, unless you just want to," he said, indicating the table and chairs. The wizards pulled out a chair each and sat, leaning back and stretching their legs out in front of them. They breathed in the night air, puffed, and blew smoke. No one saw a reason to overdo the conversation.

"You know, I don't think I ever want to be away from London at Christmas again," Blaise said.

"Good idea," someone replied.

"It's starting to snow."

"I think you're right."

"Of course, we just got these underway."

"It's just starting. We'll be done by the time it gets bad."

"Ahem?"

Everyone looked toward the French doors, where stood Daphne Greengrass, hands on hips.

"Busted," whispered Fabio, then, in a louder voice, "Oh, hell-OH, Daphne, sweetheart, come on out. Want to sit down?"

Daphne stepped down from the drawing room. She smiled as she walked across the flagstones and stood behind Harry, reached over him, and took the cigar from between his fingers. Harry froze, and the other three wizards maintained a tense silence. Daphne put the cigar to her lips, puffed it three times, hard, and drew in, causing the cigar tip to glow red-orange in the dim light. She held the smoke in her mouth while she leaned over and slipped the cigar back between Harry's fingers. Then Daphne looked down and blew the smoke out, down over Harry's head. She leaned over and spoke softly in Harry's ear.

"Five minutes. You have guests," she said, then gave the others a smile, squeezed Ron's shoulder as she passed him, and returned to the house.

Harry waited before saying anything.

"Could have been a lot worse," he said, after she'd gone inside. He looked at Fabio, who nodded, slowly, contemplating the end of his cigar.

Not long after Daphne's departure, Tracey appeared in the doorway, carrying a bottle. She set down four tiny cordial glasses, sewing thimbles on stems, one could say, and filled them to their brims with firewhiskey.

"I negotiated the firewhiskey, due to the snow, but Daphne wouldn't budge on the glasses," Tracey said. "Make it last."

Without another word, Tracey re-corked her bottle and returned to the drawing room.

"Is she seeing anyone?" Blaise asked.

The other three looked at him.

"Just curious," Blaise explained.

"Perhaps we should finish the perimeter check," Harry said, getting up. "There may be others who need a little garden time. Thank you for the cigar, Mr. Greengrass."

"Thank-you, Mr. Greengrass. Ron…" Blaise said, following Harry back to the house. Harry and Blaise propped their cigars carefully in an old marble birdbath set into the brick wall near the French doors. With luck, they would go out, not get too much snow, and be available for re-lighting, and a few last puffs when things were secured for the night.

They worked their way back to the front door and went out. They walked down the street to the corner, crossed, and walked back next to the park. Blaise spoke to two of his people, one man and one woman, who to all appearances were just a couple out for a post-dinner stroll. Harry encountered the senior auror at the next intersection. The aurors had two people on the street, in addition to the supervisor, and one in the kitchen. The supervisor was rotating the positions every half-hour, so the aurors shared the cold evenly.

"Did everyone get something to eat?" Harry asked.

"Not yet, sir, I told them we'd wait and make sure your guests were taken care of," said the senior auror.

"You can start bringing them through," Harry said. "The buffet has been going for close to an hour. If any of our guests haven't had their fill, it's their own fault. We aren't going to run out. Your people, too, Blaise."

Harry checked his watch.

"The departures are going to be starting to pick up. I'll head for the kitchen. You guys send us customers," he said.

Blaise turned around to find his couple in the park, and the senior auror left to speak to his patrols.

Harry climbed the steps to #12, and was reaching for the door handle when Kreacher opened the door.

"Thank-you, Kreacher," Harry said. "How are things in the kitchen? Some of our security friends will be coming through, and we'll want them well-fed. It looked like the charms are keeping up with the snow, but it's still cold and wet out."

"Of course, Master Harry, send them back. You have plenty of food to eat up," Kreacher said.

Harry spotted Daphne in a clump of witches. He knew he had to have spoken to them as they were arriving, but could only remember about half of their names. Daphne saw him, broke away from her group, and walked quickly to where Harry stood.

"Harry, you're all wet," Daphne said, with a hint of distress in her voice. "Stand still."

Daphne drew her wand and cast a drying charm. Harry felt more comfortable immediately.

"Lots better, thanks," he said. "We're going to have the people outside coming through for something to eat. I'm on my way to the kitchen, want to come?"

"Perfect, I needed to stick my head in anyway," Daphne said. "What were you doing out in the snow, with nothing to keep it away, not even a little drying charm?"

"Didn't think of it," Harry said. The sudden warmth loosened up Harry's head and he reached for his handkerchief. He gave his nose a vigorous rub and sniffed a few times.

"Harry, if you're going to come down with something you're going right up to bed and I'm going to get these people out of here," Daphne said, betraying a little agitation.

"I'm not coming down with anything, I've just been outside in the fresh air and now I'm inside where it's warm. Let's go say hello in the kitchen, feed our security people, and carry on," Harry said. "Believe me, I've been in much direr straits."

Blaise arrived in the entryway with his couple from the park.

"Come with us," Harry said, letting Daphne lead them all to the drawing room. Blaise left to cover the position on the park side of the street while his people were getting something to eat.

Everyone got a plate from the buffet, and Harry showed the way to the kitchen, where even more food waited.

"Help yourselves, most of the guests won't be eating any more, although there are probably pockets in robes that will be getting filled about now," Harry said. "What can we get you to drink?"

"Here they are," Tracey's voice sounded from the door. Harry looked up and saw the two aurors from the street enter, carrying plates piled high.

Harry changed his plan, and walked over to Tracey.

"Tracey, with all these people in here, they're a little thin on the street, so I'll go back out and keep an eye on things if you can see that everyone in here gets something to drink," Harry said.

"Take the time to throw your cape over that robe, Harry, and either put the hood up or wear a hat," Tracey said, or, more accurately, ordered. "Daphne was reverting to agitated schoolgirl when you walked in with your wet head."

Harry sighed, audibly.

"Just do it, Harry, save the rest of us from Daphne-angst," Tracey advised.

Harry passed by the cloakroom and picked a raincoat from the hook. It didn't have a hood, but it buttoned up to the neck, and the collar could be turned up past his ears. Harry left the robe in the coat's place, and took his wand from the robe and pushed it up the sleeve of his raincoat. Thus, fairly well-equipped according to Daphne and Tracey's instructions, he departed by the front door.

Harry walked to the corner, and saw the senior auror near the corner of the park opposite. He turned and walked past the end townhouse, to the alley that split the block. When he got to the alley, he stopped and looked down it as far as he could see, trying not to look directly at areas of deep shadow, where he would not have been able to pick out a human shape in any case, but rather to let his eyes scan the slightly lighter areas, not looking for anything in particular. According to his auror training, that method was most likely to pick up movement, a better indication of human activity, than trying to penetrate shadowy areas.

Harry didn't see anything wrong down the alley, so he turned and continued on to the next street corner. He looked both ways, up and down the street that ran perpendicular, saw no sign of human activity, turned around and headed back toward the park, and Grimmauld Place. Again, at the alley, Harry paused and let his eyes scan the back walls of the little gardens behind each town house. He decided to walk into the alley a few steps, to where the back garden wall of the end townhouse blocked the light from the street lamp, and let his eyes adjust to the deep gloom.

Harry didn't remember hearing anyone walking behind him, no crunching of shoes on gravel or slapping on concrete. All he remembered was a voice saying "Mr. Potter." He spun, and began to raise his wand, but the punch must have been on its way, because he turned his head right into a fist. He might have recovered and gotten some back if his head hadn't banged hard into the brick wall. Harry was vaguely aware of his legs becoming rubbery and the feel of his back, through his raincoat, sliding down the bricks.


	18. Chapter 18

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Eighteen

Harry Potter and the Mystery Woman Blaise Alluded to Earlier

"Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter. I'm afraid I must insist that you pay attention to me. We don't have time to waste on fugue states."

Harry Potter opened his eyes and winced at the throbbing at the back of his head. He played back his most recent memories, up to the point someone said "Mr. Potter," and he had turned to see a fist heading for the place where the bridge of his nose met his forehead. Then there was a pile of fragmentary sensations, the punch, the step back, the head against the wall, the slide down to the alley.

Harry focused on the kneeling person talking to him. It was a woman, with a pile of red, curly hair, wearing a cavalry twill army uniform devoid of decoration, no ribbons, no aiguillette, no corps insignia, just an air of _command_ that hung around her, as if she had her own atmosphere the way the Earth had its own, that brought with it a compulsion to compete with the best to demonstrate one's superiority in meeting her needs and desires.

"Why do I know you?" Harry asked, unsure who she was, but sure at the same time he knew that face, and the pile of curls. "I can see you clearly, but I can't find my glasses."

"You don't need glasses, and you don't need to know why I look familiar," said the woman. "You need to keep what little brain is functioning focused, because I have to tell you something. There's not much time, your senior auror is going to be here shortly and you'll be distracted.

"Don't waste time looking for the man who did this to you. Only his fist came through the portal. He pulled his hand back and the portal closed. You're going to see him again. This has to do with those pesky time streams. You must remember this, Mr. Potter. Do not be too quick to dispatch this person to Hell, no matter how badly you want to do it. Another fate awaits him, and it must be allowed to catch up to him on its own schedule. Do you think you can remember that?"

"Am I time traveling again?" Harry asked.

"Focus, Potter," the woman said. She didn't shout. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't have to.

"I meet the man who did this later on, and I'd be justified in killing him, but I'm not to do it, is that it?" Harry asked.

"Good man, Potter. That is exactly what I need you to do. I'll be leaving now," said the woman, and she was gone.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter!" the senior auror had his left hand behind Harry's head and had a grip with his right on the front of Harry's rain coat.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "A little fuzzy. Someone was lurking, popped me in the nose and took off, apparently. Let's see, wallet, watch, wand all here. I remember falling back and banging my head against the bricks there, but I had my collar up. I'll stand up, you see that I don't topple over. Now, any blood back there?"

The auror had Harry's arm at the elbow, and shifted him around so the light from the street hit the back of his head.

"None, sir," said the auror. "May I, just to see if there's anything under the hair?" the auror asked.

"Feel free," Harry said, lowering his chin to his chest to give access to the back of his head.

"There may be some pain if I hit the spot," the auror said.

Harry could feel the auror's finger probing about on the back of his head. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so Harry stood back up.

"Look out for my glasses, they seem to have gone flying off somewhere," Harry said.

The auror said, "Just stand still, sir. _Lumos._ Looks like they're right here, sir."

He bent over and picked up a pair of glasses, holding them by the earpieces and inspecting them under the wand's light. He handed the glasses to Harry.

"Look to be in pretty good shape, sir, considering. Now, can we get you inside?"

"How do I look?" Harry said. "I can't go in all bloody and dirty. See any blood, or dirt? He hit me right between the eyes. Am I going to have black eyes?"

The auror stood back.

"Can you turn around, sir?"

Harry turned around.

"Just a moment, sir," said the auror, and Harry felt the tingling of some cleaning charm roll down his back.

"Look at me sir, over here in the light, please," said the auror.

"You look fine, sir, can we get you inside? You need to sit down with me and let me make some notes. Don't you think, sir? Cup of tea, a little debrief?"

"Of course," Harry said. "Let's go this way, in case the guy left something behind."

Harry indicated the alley. The auror cast _lumos_ again, and Harry did the same. They kept their eyes moving, looking for anything out of place, anything that could have been dropped while Harry's assailant was waiting or running away. Harry remembered the counsel he had received from the mysterious woman, that the man who had assaulted him had opened a portal, taken his shot, and pulled his arm and hand back to his side, but as an auror, he was accustomed to looking for things that weren't there. How many times was that the key to finding what was there?

"I think this is us," Harry, counting the doors in the back walls, said to the auror. "Let's see."

Harry tried the heavy wooden door, but it was locked.

"Stand back a bit, just in case," he advised his colleague.

Harry laid his wand flat on the latch/handle fitting. The sound of rusty metal parts moving came from the door, ending in a metallic 'clink.' The door opened inward of its own volition, hinges screeching in protest, and Harry and the auror stepped inside. As soon as they were out of the way, the door swung closed, its 'crunch' against the stops followed by the metallic 'clink' of the lock.

Harry noticed the sconces were still illuminating the garden. The wand tips lit the space up more, and Harry saw that Neville had joined the party, and that Neville, Percy and Ron were sitting at the table. Someone had cast a charm that was functioning as an umbrella, because the combination of lights showed the wet snow failing to penetrate a cylindrical area centered on the table, that extended outward just far enough to keep all of the occupied chairs dry.

"Harry, you're back, sit down," and other sentiments greeted them as they walked across the garden space.

"Can't," Harry said. "Just tidying some things up. We'll be back."

Daphne spotted Harry and his colleague when they entered the drawing room. The auror had done a good job cleaning Harry up and inspecting his head, front and back, but Daphne was a witch, and a Healer besides, and she knew immediately that something had happened.

"Harry, what did you do?" she asked, in a low voice.

"Can we go to your study?" Harry asked. "I can tell you there, but I don't want anyone out here…"

"Of course," Daphne said, taking his hand and leading the way. Seamus and Dean's magical photographer had disassembled his equipment and stacked it in a corner, out of the way. Otherwise, the study looked exactly as it had when the families had left a couple of hours earlier.

"We'll be taking notes," Harry said. "Can we use the desk?"

"Feel free," Daphne said, and Harry glanced at the auror, then at the chair to the desk.

"Has Blaise come in?" Harry asked. "He needs to be here. Better get Percy, too. It wouldn't do to leave him out of this. And Hermione."

Daphne left to round up the invitees. Percy arrived from the garden, then Daphne and Blaise, then Hermione.

"Lock it," Harry said, indicating the door. "And your best _muffliato._ "

Harry saw that the senior auror had a quill, ink and parchment ready, and took a deep breath.

"This is classified at the highest level. I believe you all have a need to know, and that is why you're here. It's my judgement call and I'll take full responsibility if there are any repercussions forthcoming because of this briefing."

Harry turned to the auror. "I'll tell you when to start taking notes. I'll have to start with a little background, but it's already on record."

"Some of you know most of this, some know more than me. Bear with me. At the end of October, I was a party to a time disturbance. The significance wasn't known right away. A week later, Daphne and I figured in another, then I was a party to another, then Daphne and I were part of another one. Then the disturbances stopped. At least, we weren't part of any others.

"The cause is a person or persons, heretofore unknown, has discovered a way to manipulate the fundamental physical forces. It was thought the work of Albert Einstein was the starting point. The person doing this disconnects time streams from two or more realities, reconnecting them in a new configuration. A current theory holds that the universe, which is infinite, continually expands as realities compound, splitting off each time a decision point is reached and a decision taken, an infinite universe containing all the possible realities. Don't think about it, it's too much for most minds. Everyone can see the inherent danger, though, I'm sure. If anyone, for whatever reason, began widespread patching of disconnected realities, everything would soon become an unsortable blend of fragments from disparate streams. Chaos, in other words.

Harry turned to the auror.

"You can start writing now," he said.

"This evening at approximately nine p.m., I conducted a routine patrol in the streets near #12 Grimmauld Place, and stopped to inspect the alleyway that borders the back gardens on that block. After entering the alley from the street, I paused in a dark area to allow my eyes to adjust. I heard someone say, 'Mr. Potter' from behind me, and turned toward the voice, and was struck in the head, I believe by a man's fist. I fell backward and struck my head on a brick wall. I was confused for a period, although I can't estimate how long. I was discovered by the senior auror on duty with the security detail assigned to #12 Grimmauld Place for the evening. An initial field assessment did not show any lasting injuries, and I will present myself for examination at the earliest opportunity.

"In the moment before I was struck, I believe I saw, for a fraction of a second, the face of the person who hit me. The person resembled a photograph of Gellert Grindelwald that appears in a book by the journalist Rita Skeeter, taken from the personal collection of Ms. Bathilda Bagshot.

"Harry Potter, OM, Head Auror"

No one spoke. Everyone grasped the ramifications. If the magical criminal Gellert Grindelwald was time traveling, he could adjust reality to preclude his defeat by Dumbledore and subsequent imprisonment. There would be no limit to what the sociopathic Grindelwald would do to increase his power. He justified every kind of crime and use of dark magic, because, according to his twisted priorities, he was doing it all 'for the greater good.'

"Minister's office, eight a.m. tomorrow, Harry," said Percy, breaking the silence. "He has to hear it directly from you."

"NO," Daphne said. "He had a head injury. He has to be evaluated."

"We need him now," Hermione said. "Right now. This has threads. We have to follow them. I'm sorry Harry, the Department of Mysteries has to claim you. Sorry, Daphne."

"Everyone," Harry said. He found himself consciously trying to emulate the voice of the woman who had instructed him on his future course of action. It was effective, and everyone stopped talking.

"The aurors have the official record. You can all get copies tomorrow." Harry looked at his colleague.

"I'll make myself available to everyone, but you'll have to take turns. Daphne, I'll trust your judgement, and if, after you've looked me over, you think there is a need, we'll go to St. Mungo's tonight. Otherwise, we'll see to our remaining guests and I'll be at work in the morning. I shouldn't need to say this, to this crowd, but for the record, there is an absolute embargo on sharing or acting on the information you have gotten from this meeting, until the minister takes a decision on how to move forward and gives us our instructions. Any questions?"

Everyone shook their head.

"Fine," Harry said. Addressing the auror, he said, "Take charge of those notes. No one sees them. We'll decide on disposition after I meet the director, and Minister Shacklebolt. Better go look after our friends."

The auror said, "Yes, sir," and left, and Harry stood.

"Anyone?"

"Thanks Harry," said Hermione, speaking for everyone. Hermione led the way out the door.

Harry, Daphne and Blaise were the last people in the room. Harry grasped the doorknob and held on, the door opened just a crack.

"I think I met the woman you spoke of, at Greengrass Manor, Blaise," Harry said. "I was a bit dazed. Couldn't remember where I recognized her from. The National Portrait Gallery occurred to me. Ring a bell?"

Blaise smiled.

"She gets around," was all he said.

"Nice of you to tell me," Harry said.

Blaise looked at Harry, then Daphne, then back at Harry.

"Need to know, Harry, we all live by it. Great party, Daphne. That's for Tracey, too. See you soon," Blaise said, and Harry let him out the door.


	19. Chapter 19

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Nineteen

The Way Forward Begins to Emerge

"Harry, what…"

"Not right this minute, Daphne, please? Let's finish with the party and get everyone out of here, as normally as possible, then I promise I will tell you everything."

Harry didn't really think they would be able to conduct the rest of the event in anything resembling 'normally as possible' but thought they ought to try, just for form's sake.

Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass, Percy Weasley, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger Weasley had closeted themselves in Daphne Greengrass' study at #12 Grimmauld Place, with a senior auror from Harry's office, for close to half an hour during the most significant social event of the winter holiday season, and emerged with no explanation. None seemed to view with any sympathy the burning desire of the guests to get the first dump of tomorrow's hottest gossip topic. It didn't seem fair.

Of course, in the morning, quite a few of the remaining guests were braced by friends or acquaintances who had heard that _something_ had gone on, and they were able to relate, breathlessly, that none of the participants would say anything about the meeting in Daphne's study. Nothing at all. That carried its own delicious mystery, if in a slightly diluted form.

It was noted that Blaise Zabini left the study a little behind the others, wearing a big smile, while Harry and Daphne came out with serious looks on their faces. Some observers said they thought Harry's hair looked a little wilder than usual, but others thought that was the result of overactive imaginations. Nothing about the participants was left unexamined, and the connections and portents uncovered would have done Julius Caesar's soothsayer proud.

Once it became clear that no one among the group from the study was going to give up the content of the meeting, guests began reversing courses, passing by Astoria and Draco, thanking them once again for the wonderful evening and wishing them many years of happiness together. Soon, Harry, Daphne, Tracey, Kendra and Fabio were the only people left at #12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry had missed out on his thimbleful of firewhiskey earlier, and thought a small one might be indicated. He didn't know what the reaction would be from his significant other, who was a witch, or the one who was a healer, or the one who had qualified as a muggle physician. He strongly suspected one of those would object.

"Let's sit down for a minute," Harry said. "Kreacher, some nuts, crackers and cheese, whatever everyone would like to drink, please,"

Kreacher appeared with a 'pop' carrying trays of dishes with snacks, which he put down here and there around the salon, before heading to the bar for butterbeer and mineral water.

"Would it be alright if I had a butterbeer, Healer Daphne?" Harry asked.

Daphne puffed out her cheeks, following up with a sigh. "One shouldn't hurt," she said.

"I'd like a firewhiskey," Fabio volunteered. "How about you, Kendra?"

"A little one, in one of those little cordial glasses, and a small mineral water to go with it," Kendra said.

"Actually," Harry said.

"NO. NO. And NO," Daphne replied. Tracey, who'd watched it all, started to laugh.

"Was it that funny?" Harry asked.

"The funny part was I saw it all happen before it actually did," Tracey said.

Harry took his butterbeer from Kreacher and lifted it up.

"Great job tonight Tracey. We could not have done this without you," said Harry.

Daphne leaned down and gave Tracey a hug, while Kendra and Fabio joined in the toast with some 'Hear-hear's.'

"This was a wonderful party, all three of you," Kendra said. "Astoria cornered me near the powder room and she is ecstatic. She especially liked Teddy in his robe. She couldn't stop talking about what a good sport he was, to show up to a houseful of adults, take any job anyone gave him, even direct traffic. She's clearly smitten."

"I think it's reciprocal," Harry said. "Did you get a chance to say hello to Madame Walburga, by the way? You seem to be one of her favorites."

"Unfortunately, no," Kendra said. "It's late, she ought to be resting. Another time."

"Let me check," Daphne said, getting up and heading for her study.

"I want to see the photos," Fabio said. "That was a very interesting group, to say the least."

"Me too," said Tracey. "Harry, would you go along with putting the big group shot in the Daily Prophet? Lucius would owe us all, wouldn't he? For making him respectable again!"

Harry laughed out loud.

"Astoria DID spend most of her formative years in your company, didn't she, Tracey?" Kendra noted.

Daphne came back to the salon. "She's gone somewhere," she said.

"That's odd," Harry said. "I can't remember the last time I was aware she'd left the house. Wonder where she's gone?"

"Oh, well, she'll turn up," said Harry. "Speaking of photos, did we arrange for portraits from that _camera obscura_ setup? If I've ever seen one I don't remember it."

"We give them the order this week," Daphne said. "If you want one, get it. I don't know where you would put it. The walls are pretty much full."

Fatigue increased as the interest in conversation dropped, and Tracey, Kendra and Fabio soon left for home. Harry tried to get Daphne to go back to Greengrass Manor for the night.

"You can be out there, away from me, with Raffles," Harry said.

"No," Daphne responded.

"You'd have the wards around you," Harry tried.

"No. This house has wards we probably don't even know about," Daphne said.

"But I was attacked, I think it was Grindelwald, he could come back," Harry argued.

Harry had gone too far, and Daphne exploded.

"HARRY POTTER!" she shouted. "If you think, for one second, that being endangered by being around you is any consideration for me, your brave Gryffindor head got cracked harder than you thought. I am a witch, I have a wand, I know the curses, and I will use them all to protect my husband if it sends me to Perdition!"

Harry sat there looking at Daphne. Eventually, he got up from his chair, and held her in his arms.

"You just called me your husband," Harry said.

"I did, didn't I?" said Daphne.

"Would you?" asked Harry.

"Would I what?" Daphne asked.

Harry grasped Daphne's hands in his and dropped to one knee. Daphne clucked her tongue.

"Get up, UP," she said, pulling him back to his feet. "Of course I will. Let's not do this right now. Hadn't we better figure out what Grindelwald is up to and defeat him before we try embarking on marriage? He could really throw our plans off, with a badly-timed drop-by from whatever century he's operating in. Prioritize, Head Auror. You just can't leave that kind of detail to chance, not if you're planning a serious wedding."

"So, you're my intended, as of now?" Harry asked.

"Oh, why not?" Daphne said. "We were headed that way, anyway, or so it appeared to me."

"Me, too," said Harry. "So, I have this one little thing to do…"

"Defeat Grindelwald," Daphne said, frustration at Harry's density beginning to come through in her tone. "That's all, just defeat Gellert Grindelwald."

"And then," Harry managed to say.

"You can get down on your knee and beg and plead and abase yourself for as long as you need to, and I assure you I will give it my highest consideration," promised Daphne.

"Can't ask for more than that," Harry concluded.

"Now, I think you were going to make yourself available for a little evaluation," Daphne said. "I think the study would do. We'll put Madame's drape over her portrait."

When they got to the study, Madame Walburga was still away, someplace, so Daphne turned up the lights and started by taking Harry's pulse. She drew his eyelids back and looked for ruptured blood vessels, peered into his eyes with a magical ophthalmoscope, found a small goose egg on the back of his head, presumably from the contact with the brick wall, and that was all. There were no signs of intracranial bleeding or other trauma, around his head and neck area, or any other part of his body. She pinched his hands to check for numbness and made him follow her finger with his eyes as she moved it left to right and right to left in front of him.

"Your luck has held out once again, Potter," said Daphne, and Harry had a whiff of the traditional Slytherin resentment in his nostrils, just for a moment. 'Residual quidditch disappointment, certainly,' he thought. 'I was just too good for them. They will always think it was unfair, somehow.'

"Thank Merlin," Daphne finished.

Harry was plunged into a slough of guilt over his condescending thoughts about Daphne's Hogwarts house.

"When were you going to tell me about your mystery woman?" Daphne asked.

"There wasn't anything to tell," Harry said. "In all sincerity, there wasn't. It was that night at the manor. Blaise showed up to take charge of my prisoners. He mentioned someone he wanted to introduce me to, a legend, if I recall, and he used the pronoun 'she.' She was out in the alley tonight."

Harry used his wand to close and lock the door to the study. Then he cast _muffliato,_ strictly as a good security practice, not because he thought there were any ears unaccounted-for in the house.

"When I was woozy from hitting my head on the wall, the first person to get to me was a woman, dressed in a military uniform, tunic over trousers, without any decorations or rank insignia. She just had this way about her that said none of that stuff applied, thank you very much. She also had this big pile of red curls. Everything about her said 'Majestic.' She gave me some orders. I'll see the man who hit me again, and I'll want to kill him, but I mustn't, because he has another fate."

"Why didn't this come out in your briefing?" Daphne asked. "Why can't the aurors look for him? Why does it have to be you?"

"Why a lot of things?" Harry returned. "Why did everyone let me cruise along from personal crisis to personal crisis before I learned about us from the goblins? Why did we have that fortuitous meeting, anyway? And I don't think I'm going to have to look for him. It sounded like my superior was relying on privileged information from a source or sources unknown. She seemed pretty sure it was _when,_ not _if."_

"Harry, I didn't intentionally keep you in the dark. I'm incapable of throwing myself at anyone, I told you that. Fabio doesn't upset apple carts. Kendra had her own reasons for not reaching out. I don't know what they were. I didn't invite myself to Gringott's that day. Someone brought the situation to Ragnak's attention, apparently, but whoever it was is keeping their own counsel. Do you mind how it happened?"

"No," said Harry. "I'm glad it did. But these things happen to me, Daphne, and it is always a surprise. I'm not imagining it. You and I didn't have a choice, anyway. I had breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron before I went to lunch at the manor the first time. I told Neville about finding out about the marriage agreement, and he advised me my mum was still running things, as if she were still Head Girl. The day Ron and I interrupted you and Ginny, I explained to him why you reacted so strongly to my usual security precautions, and he asked if my mum had anything to do with getting us together.

"Your dad took Draco and me to see The Mill on my property, and he introduced me to a couple of hundred fairies who explained they live outside of time, and for them, my mum is sitting on the bench by the front door of The Mill, introducing me to the fairies and asking them to look after me when I'm at The Mill. The fairies knew me, and told me who I was, you can ask Draco and Mr. Greengrass.

"Your mother knew her way around the Potter Manor property. I have a hunch if I took you to The Mill tonight, the fairies would call you by name, and inform us they were talking to Lily and Kendra and their babies right now, about looking after us. Our mums were study partners and had access to that section behind Madame Pince's desk where you and Tracey learned about bowers. Who knows what they found in there? I'm not going to say they made us for this, because that would really be exceeding my brief, but I keep thinking about two brilliant young witches reading in on the old witches, and I can't help thinking, at the very least, there are big gaps in our knowledge.

"That's not even touching on the things that just happened, seemingly at random, throughout my time at Hogwarts. I know what you're thinking, too. My studies don't approach yours, but I can read, I understand paranoia. That's not me. This stuff just happens, without rhyme or reason, the opposite of malicious forces conspiring to put stumbling blocks in my path.

"The mystery woman didn't come out in the briefing because there is no way to explain to my colleagues, even considering magic, how I got an interview with a sovereign who's been gone for four hundred years. And yet, there she was. Blaise confirmed it, too.

"'She gets around,' he said, and gave us that big smile."

Harry pushed his glasses up higher on his nose.

"I have to be prepared. HM thinks there is a confrontation with Grindelwald up ahead. I'll want to kill him, and it sounded to me like she was saying it would be justified, but I have to leave him to his fate. That's kind of obscure. I understand not meddling with time, but just to get to me, he's already meddling. What's her role in all this? How do I prepare for something so muddied up?" Harry stared into the middle distance, his eyes unfocused. Neither of them spoke.

"You know what is really crazy, Daphne?" Harry said at last. "I am so used to this. It feels like a natural state of affairs to me. That's why I'd prefer not to have you close by. It feels exactly like a real brawl is coming, and one never knows how those are going to end. I couldn't live with myself…"

Harry couldn't finish his sentence. Daphne reached over and took Harry's hand. She had the softest, gentlest hands Harry had ever felt, he thought, on his cheek, his own hand, the back of his neck.

"Harry," she said, "Sometime, after we started dreaming together, I heard that phrase, 'Two souls, one fate,' in my mind, as real as could be. I just kind of liked the sentiment, and the sound of it, for years and years. It wasn't clear it was connected to you, especially when it looked for so long that we would never be together. Over the last year, it has gotten stronger. I'd wake up with it in my mind. There isn't a medical explanation for it. I know because I looked. Now I hear it at the oddest times, multiple times a day.

"Don't worry about me. Whatever happens, we'll face it together, and if comes to that, we'll leave here and go on together. No doubt in my mind.

"Now, you've had a long, hard day, and you have to brief the minister tomorrow morning, first thing. Why don't you let me take you upstairs and get the knots out of your muscles and we'll see if you don't go right to sleep?"

Harry was glad for the distraction of walking up the stairs. He kept his head down and hoped Daphne didn't see the droplets escaping the corners of his eyes.

It turned out that Daphne was correct about the knots. She sat beside Harry on the four-poster bed she and Kreacher had rehabilitated, while she kneaded the muscles around Harry's neck and shoulders. She hadn't reached the end of his thoracic vertebrae before Harry was sound asleep. She stopped massaging and waited for two minutes. It seemed clear he wasn't going to wake up, so she pulled the sheet and blanket up over him and moved to the arm chair near the window. Wand in hand, she watched the street, and as much of the park as she could see, for as long as she could, then she closed her eyes and joined Harry in sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty

The Pieces Assemble

Harry woke up all at once. He sat up in bed and threw the blanket toward the middle, swung his feet over the edge, and stood up. He instinctively reached for the bed post and held on until his balance returned. His glasses were missing, but he remembered Daphne taking them when he'd lain down, so he assumed she had put them someplace out of the way while she unkinked his muscles and he'd drifted off to sleep. Didn't matter. He found his way to the bath as quietly as he could. The fuzzy lump in the fuzzy chair had to be Daphne, and he would avoid waking her if possible.

Harry had been in a deep sleep for several hours, but something had been working while his body was getting its rest. He woke up fully conscious, knowing exactly what he had to do next. He held his wrist close to his eyes and was just able to make out that the time was four-thirty or thereabouts. That was good. He wouldn't be expected at the ministry before seven-thirty, giving him more than enough time for some field work before seeing the minister.

Harry moved about as quietly as he could. He wanted something other than his clothes from the previous evening for his little outing. He would be moving around in darkness, save for the light from his wand tip, and denim would be a lot more practical than the wool dress trousers he had taken off a few hours earlier. Harry had just about retrieved a pair of blue jeans from his dresser when he heard, " _Lumos,"_ and the room was suddenly in a half-lit condition.

"Wouldn't it be easier to light a lamp than move around in the dark?" Harry heard.

"I didn't want to wake you. Go back to sleep. You've got rounds in a couple of hours," Harry said. "I don't need light to find the big stuff. Now, I'll feel better if you'll get in bed. This won't take long and pretty soon we'll be having breakfast downstairs."

Daphne stood up and stretched. She waved her wand at the curtains, which closed, then at the chandelier, which lit up the room with candle light.

"I'm going in there," Daphne said, pointing at the bathroom with her wand, "and when I come out, I would like to see you here in this room. Will you give me your word you will be here?"

"Yes," Harry said, with a shrug.

The light made navigating the room much easier. Harry found his glasses and wand, a t-shirt and sweatshirt he planned to wear with his jeans, some socks that were clean enough for this morning, and a pair of trainers that still had a fair amount of tread left.

"Where are we going?" Daphne asked when she emerged from the bathroom.

Harry considered arguing, but he remembered their conversation downstairs just hours before. Daphne's counterarguments were fresh in his mind, so there did not seem to be a lot of justification for going over and over the same ground. A little wave of gooseflesh ran up Harry's spine, though, when he said, "The Mill."

"Okay," Daphne said. Harry was surprised to see her go to the closet and remove a pair of denim jeans, a long-sleeved undershirt, a wool overshirt and a pair of low-cut, lug-soled shoes. He wondered if she had the skills to conjure those with a silent charm. He knew he didn't. She certainly hadn't used her wand just now, and Harry hadn't seen her bring the items of clothing with her earlier. He decided to let it go. For a few moments after he had revealed his destination, he'd thought lack of appropriate apparel might ease Daphne back from her decision to go, but that had just been shown to be a very foolish thought. Daphne was one of those people who somehow are ready for any contingency, just as Harry was one who was always taken by surprise and forced to muddle through.

"Ready," Daphne said, shoving her wand into her left sleeve, and leading the way out the door and down the hall to the stairs.

"Any particular reason?" Daphne asked as they descended.

"I got up knowing it was what I had to do right now," Harry said, before he realized how irrational that sounded. Well, if so, he had professional help right at hand.

Harry was habituated to disapparating from the front steps, so they left by the front door, stepped down and disappeared with a 'POP.' Harry had visualized the flat area that he, Fabio and Draco had used to return to Greengrass Manor from his earlier visit.

There was no moon, and midwinter in Devon meant there would not be any sun for awhile. Nevertheless, Harry was surprised to see that starlight was sufficient to light the area enough for him to get oriented.

"This way," Harry said, starting off toward The Mill. When they got to the wooden bench and discarded millstone, Harry saw a few of the little points of light between them and the mill, but it looked like many more were moving around near the front door.

"It's alright dears, you can come closer, they've been expecting you," called a familiar voice.

Daphne stopped still, then stepped off toward The Mill with long, determined strides.

"Mother, is that you?" she called out, and Harry would have been left behind if he hadn't run for a couple of yards until he caught up.

"Draw your wand, sweetheart," said the voice, which Harry thought did indeed sound a lot like Kendra. "In situations like this, it's always a good idea."

A few hundred of the little lights were orbiting Kendra where she sat on the bench to the left of the door to The Mill.

"Mother!" Daphne said. "What are you doing here?"

"Sitting on this bench with fairies flying around me," Kendra said. "I got an owl from Hermione. She'd been sitting up late, playing with her little bag of rocks, and she thought I might be useful here."

"I used to come here to think all the time, but I was just trying to count up, and you know, I believe it has been eight or nine years since I was here last. I guess my life has been fairly uncomplicated recently, at least since our gallant champion sent that obnoxious Tom Riddle off to where he belonged. Good on ya, Harry, if I haven't told you before.

"Now, I told you what I was doing. How about you two tell me what brought Mr. Potter and his learned consort out in the middle of a December night to a derelict building in the woods?"

"Harry slept soundly all night, then he popped out of bed at four-thirty, wide awake, knowing exactly what he had to do," Daphne said. "I came along for backup."

"Very impressive, Harry," Kendra said. "Why here?"

"I don't know. I very seldom do," Harry began. "It has occurred to me, since I read the magical abstract for this land, that this is no ordinary derelict building. You know more about it than I do, I believe. It could have something to do with that. I just woke up with the thought that I needed to go to The Mill."

Kendra moved to the far end of the bench.

"Why don't you two sit down so you're comfortable while you wait for Harry's next step to become apparent?" Kendra said. "Is this connected to Harry's adventure and your mysterious meeting in the study?"

"Yes, it is," Harry said. "I was helping out with security outside tonight while the aurors were getting something to eat, and I was attacked in our alley. I heard my name, turned toward the sound, and got punched between the eyes. I just caught a glimpse of the guy before my head bounced off the brick wall behind me, but he looked an awful lot like a photo of young Gellert Grindelwald, in that Rita Skeeter biography of Dumbledore."

"Oh, dear," Kendra said. "Well, well. That would be very bad news indeed. I don't think I've ever seen anything, or heard anything, about Gellert Grindelwald time traveling. Yes, if he can get around Dumbledore, by time traveling, that would cause concern. So, what do you plan to do about him?"

"Defeat him, without killing him," Harry said, puzzled by the sound of what he'd said.

He was talking about Gellert Grindelwald, after all, who had out-dueled, out-thought, and out-maneuvered every witch and wizard he'd encountered over a period of decades, until he had had to face Dumbledore. A rational person would think, if Harry met up with Gellert Grindelwald, he'd be doing himself and everyone else a big favor by defeating him, and not being overly-careful about Grindelwald's condition at the end of the process.

"Why is that?" Kendra asked.

"Instructions," Harry said. "Orders. From very high up."

"Kingsley is sending you out to do this?" Kendra asked, some objection to Kingsley's presumption apparent in her voice.

"No," Harry said. "Oh, what the hell. I might as well tell you. Last night, after I got sucker-punched, someone got to me before the senior auror arrived in the alley. A woman, wearing an army uniform without any badges or ribbons, just this imperious manner and a big pile of red curls on her head. I didn't grasp who I was talking to right away, and she didn't stay around very long after telling me I'd see the person who hit me again, and that he had a fate in store, and I had to let that catch up to him. When I got sharp enough to successfully repeat my instructions back to her, she left."

Everyone sat in silence, watching the fairies flying about. Eventually, Kendra broke the quiet.

"She had a difficult life. Her father reassembled England after the Yorks and Lancasters did everything they could to cock it up permanently, but he never saw that she was the one who could hold all of this together. Her sister locked her up. Spain and Rome libeled and slandered and plotted against her incessantly. That she lived long enough to ascend to the throne was a miracle. She's one of us, of course. A witch. Her human body was mortal and had to die, but she knew her old magic, and she has been keeping an eye on her handiwork ever since. She doesn't work a lot, just offers some guidance once in awhile, on really big things."

Kendra stopped talking, watched the fairies, and worked her wand around through her fingers. Harry and Daphne waited while Kendra sat there.

The fairies were mesmerizing. A hundred or so were amusing themselves forming a ring around Daphne's head, drifting apart, and re-forming the crown of fairies. Harry was under their spell and nearly missed it when Kendra spoke again.

"Harry, our gallant champion," Kendra said, reaching across Daphne for Harry's hand. "She offers guidance on really big things, do you understand?"

"I think I do, Mrs. Greengrass. I promise I'll do my best to carry out my orders to the letter. How, I don't know just yet," Harry concluded.

"You'll do fine," Kendra said. "Put it out of your mind for now.

"Do you have any questions about The Mill? You are correct. It isn't just some generic dilapidated building."

Harry thought over what little he knew.

"It was added to the estate through marriage. Mr. Greengrass spotted that on the magical abstract the other night at the manor. Iolanthe Peverell married into the Potters and The Mill came with her. That means it has been in magical families for some centuries, not sure just how many. That is about all I know," Harry said. "Except for the fairies. They explained they live outside of time."

"Very good. The Mill is old, but it has been built, torn down, and rebuilt numerous times. The site is older than water power. Can you imagine? This was imbued with magic before the Celts came to Britain. Back into the mists of time, literally.

"The fairies and the Earth are part of the same creation. They don't really end until it all ends. That is a difficult concept. Some people can't deal with fairies because they don't have that linear reference of past, present and future. Drives them to distraction."

"The fairies knew me when I visited with Mr. Greengrass and Draco. They know Daphne, too, don't they, Mrs. Greengrass?" Harry asked. "They keep making that crown for her. Did you and mum bring us both here to meet the fairies?"

Kendra studied Harry before speaking.

"Yes, Harry," she said, then she paused before going on. "Lily and I knew it would be dark times for awhile, then the light would return. We didn't know what form that would take, exactly. The runes become less explicit the closer the matter under study is to the caster. There was nothing closer to me than Lily, and you two right next to Lily, of course. We couldn't see what we were facing, so we introduced you, and asked the fairies to look after you two."

Harry nodded.

"Can I ask you about the house? It's in surprisingly good condition. Trix thought there were some charms in place, but she didn't sense there were any elves, or anyone else, for that matter, doing any maintenance. I'd like to get it in shape so we could use it, for weekends or a week or two, as a getaway. That's after this other business is finished, of course. I wouldn't be stepping on any magical toes, would I?" asked Harry.

"None that I know of," Kendra answered. "It feels like the site is glad to have you here, taking an interest."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Greengrass. This has been much more than I expected. You've been a great help. Fairy princess? Are we going to work this morning?" asked Harry.

"If we must," Daphne said as she smiled, raising her hand into the mass of circling fairies.

"Mrs. Greengrass," Harry said as Daphne joined him and slipped her arm around his. "When I was here before, the fairies said my mum was sitting there on that bench, introducing me to the fairies."

"Yes, yes she is," Kendra said. "If you're outside of time. Be careful, dears."

Harry and Daphne walked back past the millstone and its wooden bench to the apparation point. They both knew the way back to #12 so there was no need for one to go via side-along with the other. They disapparated with two 'pops' and appeared on the front step of the townhouse moments later. Kreacher was opening the door as they arrived.

"Welcome, Master Harry and Miss Daphne. Kreacher has prepared a breakfast of poached eggs, toast, marmalade and coffee. Mineral water and orange juice are ready as well. Will you permit Kreacher to recommend you have your breakfast right away, so it does not get cold? You have been out of doors and the weather is not the best," Kreacher said, ending his welcoming speech.

"Excellent all around, Kreacher," Harry said. "Where would you like to have breakfast, Daphne?"

"The kitchen makes the most sense," she answered. "Less shuffling about, closer to the food and the second cup of coffee."

They proceeded to the kitchen. Daphne shed the wool shirt. Harry had relied on a warming charm to supplement the sweatshirt he was wearing.

Breakfast was a subdued affair. Harry and Daphne were both replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours, individual versions, over and over. They ate in silence, for the most part, each anticipating the other's needs by watching the levels of coffee dropping in their coffee cups, sensing when marmalade for toast needed topping up. Harry noticed their mutual, extra attention.

"We're overdoing it," he said.

Daphne burst out laughing.

"I'm glad you said it," she confirmed. "I didn't want to, which meant I was trapped."

Something about that comment struck Harry as hilariously funny. All the laughter broke the tension.

"I won't worry about it if you won't," Harry said.

"Deal," Daphne said. "Harry, whatever happens, I want you to know I love you. My life changed the day Ragnak sat us down at Gringott's. Thank you for taking on this driven country witch. Whether you want to take credit, or not. I was in peril of forgetting important things. You fixed that."

"I was just thinking I owe you," Harry said. "The rut I was in…I guess…the easiest way to put it is, for better or worse, I'm not in it anymore."

No one said anything as they looked across the long kitchen table.

Then Harry said, "We'll stick together. We'll be alright," making it sound like a judge's verdict.

Breakfast accomplished, Harry and Daphne changed into their work clothes and departed. Harry got to the office to find a note on his desk from Percy Weasley.

"Harry," it said, "Can you come to my office as soon as you get in? Thanks, Percy"

Harry checked his watch. He hadn't expected anyone to be in before him. He wondered if Percy had bothered to sleep after getting home from the party. Percy was focused, a life-long affliction that caused him to see every phenomenon as a gradable exercise for which he must receive top marks or risk falling back in relation to the competition. Harry had observed Percy closely for years, ever since Percy, as a Gryffindor prefect, had shown Harry's entering class of first years the way to the Gryffindor common room and dormitories. Percy's obsession with work and personal standing had served him well in climbing the career ladder, making him a junior minister at a very young age. Harry wondered if the intensity was helpful, or hurtful, to Percy's further ambitions. He hoped Percy learned, over time, to moderate the blind ambition and temper it with a little humor, perspective, and consideration for others.

As long as Percy had already gotten to the office, and Harry had to debrief anyway, he dropped his things and looked over his desk top and around the office to check for other high priority items. He didn't find anything, but he hadn't expected to.

Harry didn't need to knock on Percy's office door, because Percy had left it open. He stuck his head in, and asked, "Is this a good time?"

Harry had been trying for some ironic humor, but it seemed it was lost on Percy.

"Absolutely, come on in, Harry," Percy said, indicating Harry should take a chair, one of two across from Percy's desk. The second chair was occupied by Harry's immediate supervisor, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

The director, Mr. Bart Fudge, was not from the street officers' side of magical law enforcement. He had been an investigator for magical financial enforcement for a time, but he had been trained in magical law and spent most of his career as a prosecutor. Mr. Fudge was the nephew of Cornelius Fudge, former minister, and was named for Bartemius 'Barty' Crouch, Senior, who had been a classmate of his father. Mr. Fudge had gone by Barty earlier in his career, but when Barty Crouch, Junior came a cropper in most spectacular fashion, Mr. Fudge was still young enough that he could successfully transform himself into the more respectable Bart Fudge that he remained.

Harry had thought that he might like to transition to Mr. Fudge's position at some point, but he had observed that Mr. Fudge, who had been a capable prosecutor, whether negotiating or presenting a case before the Wizengamot, at least by reputation, appeared to be utilizing a fraction of his talents and capabilities in his position. The director was responsible for oversight of the Auror's Office, for example, but not hands-on supervision. Essentially, he checked in with Harry and kept an eye on things, but as long as Harry was running the office and doing a competent job, the director did not have a great deal to do. The same was true of the other areas that fell under law enforcement, such as financial crimes, the prosecutorial function, and the administrative areas such as personnel and budget. The ministry was in one of those lucky phases when competent supervisors handled their sections, good governance prevailed, and Mr. Fudge's job too often consisted of providing positive reports to the minister.

"Hermione is on her way, Harry, and we're to go in when she arrives. The minister asked for the outline, which I was able to give him, based on our meeting last night, but you'll be doing the big briefing. Needless to say…etc." Percy said, clearly relishing his access to the latest magical intelligence, and his ability to give an insider account to Kingsley Shacklebolt due to his fortuitous attendance at Astoria and Draco's engagement party at #12 Grimmauld Place.

"Hullo, all," Hermione sang as she walked into Percy's office. She unwrapped a cape and laid it over the arm of the settee, removed the beret that had been keeping her headful of curls under control, dropped it on the cape, and looked toward Percy.

"Shall we?" she inquired.

"Let's find out," Percy said, getting up from his chair.

"You've given us a bit of a start, once again, Harry," said Mr. Fudge.

"The trouble is, this one came and found me, Mr. Fudge, I'm all but out of the picture altogether," Harry said.

The little group was shown in to Kingsley's office by his administrative assistant. Kingsley stood while everyone got in and found seating. Kingsley sat down across a low coffee table from Harry.

"Right. From the beginning, then, Harry," Kingsley announced.

"Last night was the Draco Malfoy-Astoria Greengrass engagement party at my townhouse at #12 Grimmauld Place, Minister," Harry began. "I went out to take a turn on the perimeter while the aurors got something to eat inside. I walked down one side of the block, looked down our alley, continued to the corner, looked ahead, right and left, turned around, walked back as far as the alley, then I stepped in to stand in some shadow and let the eyes adjust. I heard a voice behind me say my name, turned, and got punched right in the face. My head went back and hit the wall, which is brick, and I got a bit wobbly. I slid down and ended up on my backside leaning against the wall. I have a memory, of having seen, just for a moment, the face of the man who punched me. It looked a lot like the photo of the young Gellert Grindelwald that is in Rita Skeeter's biography of Dumbledore."

Kingsley sat staring straight ahead.

"Where did he go?" Kingsley asked. "Were you conscious enough to see where he went?"

"I didn't hear him come up behind me, nor hear, nor see him run away. The senior auror didn't see him, either. I believe he punched me from a portal, which then closed," Harry said.

"Anyone else around?" Kingsley asked, looking closely at Harry.

 _He knows,_ Harry thought. _What does he want me to do?_

Kingsley, if anything, was a straight shooter, Harry concluded. He wasn't devious enough to think he was signaling Harry to mislead the attendees.

"After I was sitting on the pavement, someone came up and spoke to me. It was a woman. She wore a military uniform, tunic out over trousers, no military cover, no decorations, no rank. She wore her hair in a big mound of curls. Red curls.

"She spoke to me and told me I'd be seeing the man who'd done it again, and I was not to kill him, even though I might want to, but to leave him to another fate that awaited him. When I repeated her instructions, she confirmed what I'd said, and she left. The next thing I knew, my colleague had found me and was trying to get me to come around, get to my feet, and so on. He did a quick field assessment, found my glasses, cast a cleaning charm on my back, which had gotten dirty from the fall. Then we went inside, and I gave Percy, Hermione, Blaise and Daphne a quick version."

Kingsley didn't say anything, but seemed to be replaying Harry's debrief. Eventually, he looked at Mr. Fudge.

"What do you make of Harry's report?" he asked.

"Not a lot to go on," said Fudge. "Harry was assaulted, but there is no obvious motive. The assailant didn't follow up, even though he had Harry at a severe disadvantage, unable to defend himself. Harry wasn't robbed. An experienced auror was in the area and didn't see or hear anything. Harry's condition, when he saw someone he thought he recognized, was not conducive to getting a reliable description. Sorry, I'm talking like a lawyer cross examining a witness."

"What about the woman in uniform?" Kingsley asked.

"Again," Fudge said, "Harry'd just suffered two blows to the head, the party was there a very short time, then disappeared, she wasn't seen by the auror present at the scene. We couldn't go before a judge with that. On the other hand, given Harry's description, I have heard there is a belief, mainly among witches, that a former queen does put in an appearance on rare occasions. Our Head Unspeakable is here, and she's a witch. I'd like to hear her address that."

Hermione looked straight ahead, without looking at anyone. Hermione was several encylopedias' worth of information, all on tap, just ask and she'd tell you. It had been that way since they were first years. A speechless Hermione was almost unheard of.

"There is such a belief," Hermione stated, finally, with such neutrality that Harry thought Percy, Bart Fudge, and Kingsley were all thinking the same thing: "AND?"

"The belief concerns Queen Elizabeth the First, who was said to have been a witch, and who used and understood old magic and was able to leave some presence behind after her physical death, to be a sort of protector of Britain. There are no confirmed encounters." Hermione stopped there.

"Harry, have you ever heard of that story before?" Kingsley asked. Harry knew what he was thinking. He wondered if Harry had been recreating a story he'd heard earlier while his mind was getting back to normal after the punch.

"Not that I recall, Minister," Harry said. "I have been trying to remember if I had ever heard that, but I don't think so. You want to know if I have a fuzzy memory, I think?"

This got a huge laugh from everyone. Obviously the pressure had been building, Harry presumed since he had first mentioned Grindelwald.

"Among other things, yes," Kingsley said.

"I don't recall ever hearing anything specific before my encounter last night. I was reminded of a portrait that is in the National Portrait Gallery when I got a look at close quarters. Whether that portrait somehow affected my recollection of last night's events requires someone with Daphne's background, not mine," Harry concluded.

Kingsley took another of his thinking breaks.

"Here's how I see it," Kingsley began. "We have an assault on an auror, by an unknown person, possibly through the use of a portal. The portal could account for the absence of anyone seen going toward or leaving from the scene. Harry experienced a phenomenon of unknown origin following the assault. This can neither be proven nor disproven at present. It is also known that someone has been meddling with timestreams since last fall, the purpose of said meddling is unknown.

"The ministry's position will be this: The ministry will not confirm or deny the assault or any rumors of a sighting of a monarch, living or dead; the ministry can confirm the DMLE is investigating an incident that occurred last night, and details will be forthcoming when the ministry knows what happened.

"Percy and Bart, there is an embargo on any statement, on or off-record, unless cleared in advance by this office.

"Hermione, PLEASE get me everything your department has or can dig up on Elizabeth the First. The last thing we need right now is for rumors to start flying that she has shown up to take over. There will be witches and wizards spotting signs and portents from here to the Lizard if we feed any fuel into the fire. I'd like a preliminary report by noon, please."

Kingsley stood up, his customary method of declaring the meeting adjourned.

Harry was getting into the line of people departing when he felt some fingers pressing on his forearm. He looked up and saw they belonged to Kingsley.

"Another minute, please," Kingsley said, watching Harry's colleagues exit. When the last one crossed the threshold, Kingsley closed the door and motioned Harry to sit down.

"Cards on the table, Harry," Kingsley said. "Hermione sent me an owl and told me about The Mill. I advised her to edit severely, just for this meeting, until we get a little clarity. What do you think of all this? Are we in peril?"

"I never met Grindelwald in life," Harry began. "The face behind the fist looked like the photo. I couldn't study him due to the stars that popped out just as I got a look at him. Her late majesty appeared to be as real as either of us. There was nothing ghostly about her at all. I don't recall her touching me, so I can't go further on her materiality. Mrs. Greengrass didn't try to disabuse me of the idea. She listened to me, and when she commented, she emphasized 'She offers guidance, on really important things.'"

Harry sat, thinking, not looking at anything in particular.

"If Gellert Grindelwald has learned, somehow, to use magic to manipulate the fundamental forces of Nature, experimenting with timestreams is just the start. Nuclear weapons are a muggle invention based on that idea. What would a magical genius come up with? She offers guidance, on really important things," Harry concluded.

Kingsley and Harry took some time absorbing the ramifications of that proposition.

"We found him working in 1918," Kingsley said. "It looks like he belongs back in 1899. Until I'm proven wrong, my working assumption is this is a continuation of the experimentation that was the cause of his expulsion from Durmstrang. Time is short Harry. Unfortunately, it looks like it is his move.

"Where is Daphne?"

"St. Mungo's," Harry said.

Kingsley was lost in thought again.

"That's good, I think," Kingsley said. "He hasn't taken notice of her unless she is with you.

"Now, I want you to get out of here. Go work out or something. There's nothing we can do until he moves," Kingsley said, opening his door.


	21. Chapter 21

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty-One

The Return of Grindelwald

Daphne completed her rounds in good order, but she had had to force herself to focus throughout. That was a very rare occurrence for her, usually appearing only when she was distracted by a health matter affecting a member of her immediate family. Otherwise, she was both highly professional and genuinely interested in the welfare of her patients, to the point that she sometimes needed to consciously distance herself when she was nominally engaged in other activity away from the hospital.

Daphne made sure her notes were up-to-date in her patients' charts. Then she chaired a meeting of the department staff. By noon, she was done with everything she needed to do at the hospital. Harry wouldn't normally be free from the ministry until sometime after five o'clock, so there wasn't a lot for her to do at #12 Grimmauld Place. She wasn't aware Kingsley had ordered Harry to leave the ministry, but she felt the need for some fresh air and exercise, so she took the lift to the roof and disapparated, apparating just outside the wards of Greengrass Manor.

The talking gate welcomed Daphne back, and she thanked the gate for the sentiment, before going on inside to greet Raffles. Once he was settled down enough to stay under her arm, Daphne scooped Raffles up and went upstairs. She went to her room and got out of her work clothes, choosing a matched warmup set from her closet, along with some running shoes. Packing up Raffles once more, she returned downstairs and went outside via the sunny room by the patio. Daphne passed Fabio on her way down through the gardens to the green.

"Father," she said, "Are you taking some time away from work, following sound medical advice?"

"Daphne! It's all about priorities, isn't it? And today, pulling up these stalks had to take priority over earning money. It's almost time for lunch, so don't stay out too long," Fabio said.

"I'm going to run along the lanes for a little way, just until I get London out of my lungs and Greengrass Manor air in," said Daphne. "Raffles won't last very long, so he can be my timer. See you at lunch."

Daphne reached the green at the bottom of the slope and put Raffles down. He took off across the green and Daphne started after him. She jogged slowly, keeping Raffles in sight but letting him find his own way and pace. Gradually, she lengthened her stride as her muscles warmed up, although Raffles still had no trouble staying in the lead. The December air started out cold in her nostrils, but soon she appreciated the feel of it coming in, as she warmed up and began to sweat a little.

It wasn't long before Daphne had run out of sight of the manor, to a part of the lane bracketed between two parallel rows of hedges. She turned around and jogged backwards, looking carefully at the lane behind her. When she was sure there weren't any people about, she transformed into a lynx, feeling once more the thrill of going from biped to quadruped in mid-stride. Daphne never got tired of the sensation of leaving behind the thump-thump-thump of the two-legged runner for the smooth, effortless, guddle-ump-guddle-ump-guddle-ump of four legs. Daphne thought she started with a fixed amount of energy and endurance as a human, and drew it down the longer she ran, but the lynx seemed to able to run forever, getting stronger as she ran. She understood that had to be a physical impossibility, but Daphne had yet to run, as a lynx, to the point of exhaustion.

Raffles started out with a good lead, but the lynx closed the gap, steadily, letting the Bichon extend himself as much as his short legs could. When she got close enough, the lynx extended her neck and bumped Raffles with her nose. He, for his part, took advantage of his lesser size and mass and dodged left and right, stopping quickly and letting the lynx run past, timing his own restart to run past the lynx while it was still getting started after stopping and turning. Once Raffles managed his timing and ran back through the cat's legs after a course reversal. Raffles and the lynx had played this way many times in the past, enjoying the solitude of the hidden lane. Unless there were farmers in the area, a rare occurrence for late December, the two had the lane to themselves. Thus it was not surprising that neither noticed the portal, nor the heavy bars of the steel cage that sat, with its own door open wide, just on the other side.

Harry left the ministry with no real plan. He was simply complying with Kingsley's orders. He considered his options and decided Kingsley, as usual, had the best suggestion, which was to go home and work out. He apparated to #12 Grimmauld Place, went upstairs, grabbed a pair of pants from a track suit, and headed for his dojo.

Harry kept his workout simple. Track pants and bare feet, some stretching of the long muscles in his arms and legs, then kicking, then speed work for his hands. When he was finished, he decided he would proceed to the flat, where the familiarity and informal atmosphere felt more comfortable than the still-fussy, and barnlike, #12 Grimmauld Place. As he headed for the front door, Harry noticed his Head Auror's baton, still sitting on the bookcase where he had placed it after the St. Mungo's Ball. He could not have articulated why he picked it up and tucked it under his arm on the way out of the house.

Once at the flat, Harry considered dropping everything and going to the Leaky Cauldron for some lunch. He felt sharp, and not that hungry, following his dojo time, however, and decided to put off eating for a while. He sat down at the little desk and chose a note card, on which he wrote, "Daphne, at the flat. Kingsley sent me home (literally!) if you are free, let me know. Harry"

Harry dispatched the note and sat by the window. He picked up the baton and looked it over. He hadn't noticed it before, but the silver knob was slightly loose. Harry looked closer and saw what appeared to be the traces of threads showing on the neck of the knob. He twisted the knob and found he could unscrew it, revealing the ebony shaft was hollow. Harry held the open end up toward the window and tried to see the bottom, but the light just seemed to disappear into the ebony interior.

Harry's wand lay on the table, and he picked it up and dropped it in the baton. The wand had plenty of room until it got to the handle, then it stopped dropping in. As Harry watched, the ebony part of the baton expanded, allowing the wand to drop in fully. Harry screwed the knob back on. He waved the baton at his casement window, the latched popped, and the window opened. He waved it again, and the window closed and latched. He tried the refrigerator, with similar results.

"Interesting," he thought to himself.

Harry tucked the baton under his arm, like a swagger stick. He looked at the refrigerator and thought, "Open." Nothing happened.

Harry checked his position to make sure the baton was pointed at the refrigerator door, and thought, "Open." The door opened, a bit sluggishly, perhaps, but it opened. Harry thought about what he had just seen. He pulled the baton out from under his arm, turned it around, and put it back. He pointed it at the refrigerator door and thought, "Open," and the door opened as if he had pulled on the handle.

"Well, that's good to know," Harry thought.

He was sitting at the table, about to come to a decision to head to the Leaky Cauldron for some lunch when he heard the sound of nails scratching against masonry, and Raffles ran, barking, out of his fireplace.

Harry immediately saw that Raffles was encumbered with some non-Bichon accessories. A piece of twine was tied around his neck, and with it a wand that bumped along the floor as he ran toward Harry, and a rolled-up piece of paper hanging in front under his chin. Raffles jumped on Harry as Harry knelt down on his kitchen floor.

"I know, it's important, isn't it?" Harry said, as Raffles made it difficult to remove his impedimenta, with all his jumping and twisting. He kept up a steady yapping and whining routine while Harry tried untying the twine, so that Harry had to pick up the baton from the table and cast _muffliato_ before he risked a complaint from the neighbors.

Harry got the wand removed from the twine, and recognized it as Daphne's. He put the wand next to the baton on the table and turned to the piece of paper that was rolled up and tied into the twine. Harry took up the baton again and cast an untying charm, causing the twine to drop to the floor, as it released the paper. Harry picked it up and unrolled it. A blotchy message that looked like it had been written with cheap ink and an old quill overlay some printing. Harry oriented the paper and read:

"Be holding the dog when it becomes a portkey if you want to see her again."

Harry literally saw red. The meaning was unmistakable. Grindelwald, presuming it really _was_ Grindelwald, had snatched Daphne and was using her for bait. Something emerged and fought for space in Harry's consciousness. He could not allow himself to sit holding Raffles waiting for transport to someplace where he would wreak death and destruction. That could ensure death or serious injury for Daphne, and probably for himself as well. Grindelwald was not brute strength, Grindelwald was intellect, magical skills, and curiosity run amok. Intellect and cunning would defeat him, not a street auror, no matter how well-tuned.

Harry looked at the castoff paper upon which the note had been composed. At the top he saw '328 Infantry Regiment – 82ndDivision – AEF.' The text appeared to be a unit newsletter. AEF was American Expeditionary Force, so Grindelwald was back in France around 1918. Harry decided to get into uniform, so he grabbed Raffles and ran to his bedroom. He got out of his street clothes and pulled his brigadier's uniform from the hanger. A wand speeded up dressing considerably, and he was ready for departure in less than a minute. Harry tucked the baton under his arm, slid Daphne's wand up his left sleeve, picked up Raffles and sat down on his bed.

Nothing happened, and Harry decided to try one more thing, keeping Raffles on his lap, just in case time ran out. He unscrewed the silver knob and leaned forward so his wand slid out into his hand. Taking Daphne's wand in his left hand, he tapped his wand, and said, " _Proxima reverso_ " before sliding his wand back into the baton and replacing the knob. He sat there, clearing his mind, preparing to be transported into that three-meter world of combat as soon as Raffles the port key went active.

He did not have to wait very long.

Harry had his first three moves in mind while he was being transported by Raffles. As soon as his feet touched down, he bent at the waist, put Raffles' feet down, and stood up holding Daphne's wand in the first dueling position.

"Expeliarmus!" said a handsome young man, and Harry lost Daphne's wand as the spell pushed him back. Harry had expected something like that, so he did not have the rag doll reaction of someone taken by surprise. He landed on his feet and glared at Gellert Grindelwald.

"Impressive, Potter," said Grindelwald. "Your reputation has gotten around, of course, but there is nothing like seeing the actual man in action. I have something of yours, I believe. You must become more attentive to your livestock, Potter. This one was running loose all over the countryside, so I penned it up for you."

Grindelwald flipped Daphne's wand toward a steel cage that held a lynx with a platinum coat, sending sparks toward the cage and causing the cat to become agitated.

"What's her name?" Grindelwald asked.

"What do you want from us?" Harry responded. "You're breaking a lot of china, to no good purpose, at least not that anyone I know can discern."

Grindelwald pointed Daphne's wand at the cage again, and shouted, "WHAT'S HER NAME?"

"Princess," Harry said, as the rumble of artillery sounded from some distance away. "Now let her go. Then, we'll talk."

"Just so we understand one another, Potter, I'll give you the conditions of your employment. You work for me. Princess stays healthy as long as you work for me. That's all. Do we have an understanding?" Grindelwald asked with a sneer.

"You don't need to know what I'm doing or why. You don't need to know why I'll send you to do things for me. You'll just do them. Then you'll come back. If you do those things well, Princess will be here waiting for you." Grindelwald seemed to find that an adequate new employee orientation.

"Now, Potter, since you don't have any questions, you can give me the other wand. This one belongs to Princess. You will have brought your own," Grindelwald said, as if he expected Harry to be dazzled by his superior logic.

Harry reached up with his right hand, across his body to the silver knob on the Head Auror's baton, which was tucked under his left arm. He moved deliberately so as not to give Grindelwald any doubt about his intentions. With his right hand, Harry unscrewed the knob so that the open end of the hollow baton was pointed at Grindelwald.

"Accio wand!" Grindelwald said, the glee in his voice quite apparent. The lynx made a yowling sound in the cage, clearly distressed by what she was witnessing. Harry's holly wand flew out of the hollow baton and across the room to Grindelwald, who caught it in his right hand.

"Send her back," Harry said. "She hasn't done anything to you. You've got me where you want me. You've won."

"I don't think so," Grindelwald said. "That's a very nice cat. You're clearly attached to it. I think it is going to be quite useful, as a little insurance. You see, Potter, I have a plan. The small minds around Durmstrang, with their spells and curses, can understand so little. They are limited, just like their magic. Wizards are capable of so much more than potions. Wizards who take the time can learn to use magic to shape time, mold light, change the elements into energy. Muggles are pressing forward in their relentless, ant-like way, discovering powers beyond imagining just a short time ago. The only problem is the muggles doing research are consumed by their investigations, and the muggles who will exploit them are corrupt, power hungry, and completely lacking in vision.

"What is wanting is a little guidance. With or without your help, Potter, a small and very select group of wizards will take control of the muggles' research. We will use magic to amplify their primitive attempts and exercise vigorous oversight to keep them confined to constructive channels. The greater good must be served, it is the way of things. There will be opportunities, for the wizards with the right skills, and healthy attitudes. Don't pretend you don't have unsatisfied ambition, Potter. Someone with your abilities, tidying up street crime for Kingsley Shackelbolt? Work for me, Potter, and do a good job. You'll move up as fast as your accomplishments merit. Entertain foolish notions, and you can expect to see a lot of this!"

Grindelwald swung his arm and pointed Harry's wand at the lynx, as Harry shouted, "NO!" and lunged forward.

Grindelwald was more than fast enough to react. He brought Harry's wand back around, and had gotten as far as " _CRU_ " when the holly wand sent _Crucio_ straight up Grindelwald's arm to his breastbone. Grindelwald's face went slack and the hand holding Harry's wand dropped. Harry had anticipated the opening and hit Grindelwald with a combination of punches to the head and body, before picking him up by his throat and slamming him to the floor. He stepped on Grindelwald's right wrist and felt a very encouraging series of crunches as the wrist underwent some adjustments, before Grindelwald's right hand unclenched, freeing Harry's holly wand.

" _Accio_!" Harry shouted, catching his wand as it popped up from Grindelwald's open hand.

" _Brachiabindo_ , _"_ Harry added, pinning Grindelwald's arms to his sides.

"Get back," Harry said to the lynx, and cast _Alohomora_ , popping the cage door open. Harry expected to see Daphne transform as soon as the lynx was clear of the cage, but the cat leapt across the room and stood on Grindelwald's chest, looking down into the immobilized wizard's eyes. Harry had felt those lynx eyes on him before, and he wondered if the cat remembered they needed to let Grindelwald go, so he could face his destiny. He didn't consider it a problem, one way or the other. If they both ended up in Perdition, at least they'd be able to enjoy one another's company for a good long while. They might even be celebrities there, for having dispatched such an abomination as Grindelwald.

"How could anyone think it was alright to torment such a beautiful animal as Princess, anyway?" Harry thought to himself.

Princess, though, was just giving Grindelwald a tutorial in manners. She calmed down and stepped back, then transformed back to Daphne.

"Princess?" was the first, withering word out of Daphne's mouth, once she returned to her human form.

"Short for Fairy Princess," Harry explained.

Daphne looked at him. Eventually, she spoke. "We'll talk, later," she said.

"Now, what do we do with this? He has been very naughty. Your mentor wants you to put him back. It's quite the dilemma."

"No dilemma," Harry said. "She made her wishes very clear. I didn't know about his experiments, though. If we just send him back, he'll undoubtedly return to what he was doing. The world is in peril if he takes his knowledge back with him. I figured out what he's doing here. One of Albert Einstein's correspondents was Belgian, Georges LeMaitre, and Belgium is right over there.

"I think, to let him go, we have to make sure he doesn't go back to his scientific pastimes. Do you understand, Daphne? For him to go back to 1899, and not be a mortal danger to the world, all over again, we have to make sure he doesn't remember you, me, France, Belgium, Einstein, LeMaitre, timestreams…"

The meaning of Harry's soliloquy began to emerge for Daphne.

"Oh, no, I'm a healer, Harry," she said. "You're asking me to experiment on a human being. This isn't saving a memory in a vial for the pensieve. I'd be wiping a portion of his mind."

"We have to let him go back, and do all the things he does, and end up facing Dumbledore and getting locked up for the rest of his life. Everything that happened after his expulsion from Durmstrang depends on that series of events. That's the meaning of my instructions," Harry said. "We have to let him go, in a condition that allows him to do all of those things, even the bad ones. If he remembers any of this," Harry gestured with a sweep of his hand, "he'll be able to stop us, just by assassinating one grandparent each."

"Let's get started," Harry said. "It's the only way."

Harry knelt beside the immobilized Grindelwald, pulled the baton out from under his arm, and unscrewed the silver knob.

"You can put them in here," Harry said.

"Ariana Dumbledore," Daphne said, her sudden distress apparent in her voice.

Harry looked back at her, his face grim, and nodded.

"I know," he said.

Daphne, with the discipline of a physician, put all the bad that Grindelwald had done, and would go on to do, out of her mind, and went to work. Harry knelt and held the baton with the open end up, while Daphne probed, identified memories, removed them from Grindelwald, and dropped them into the hollowed-out baton.

Harry concentrated on keeping the baton upright so the memories didn't get spilled out onto the floor and contaminated. There were going to be some interesting internal discussions in the Ministry of Magic when he turned in his baton. His position, as Head Auror, would be that the silver knob should be covered in sealing wax and the baton put in stasis for at least 1,000 years in hopes that by then all danger of unauthorized time experiments would be past, and magical humanity matured to the point his baton was a quaint artifact shown to schoolchildren on field trips.

The Unspeakables, of course, would want to take it back to the Department of Mysteries and poke and prod and keep their results to themselves. There had to be liaison desks where at least a part of the story was known, and they would have their own justifications for favored approaches.

Just another day at the office, Harry thought.

Harry looked around the room. It reminded him of the farmhouse where he had been introduced to Sergeant James Potter. He wondered how Grindelwald had managed to requisition it for his purposes in the middle of a combat zone.

It was well after dark, and Daphne was pulling memories and dropping them into the baton when the door opened. Harry gripped his wand, hard, and looked up. Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, followed by Bart Fudge and Blaise Zabini.

Harry looked at them, and gave them a little shake of his head.

It wasn't long before Daphne said, in a voice that was not much above a whisper, "Done."

"Sure?" Harry asked.

Daphne nodded.

Harry screwed the knob back on the ebony baton, which he tucked under his left arm. Then he offered his arm to Daphne and lifted her back onto her feet. He leaned over and scooped up Raffles, who had been, surprisingly, respectfully quiet while Daphne worked on Grindelwald, but re-energized as soon as she stood up.

"Gellert Grindelwald," Harry said, indicating the immobilized man on the floor. "We'll need some transport, if you want to take him back."

"Already arranged," Kingsley said. "It should be here any minute now. How are you, Chief?" he asked, looking at Daphne, the concern quite evident in his tone.

"I'll take a few days to process, Minister," Daphne said, using the back of her wrist to wipe the corners of her eyes. "I may need a little getaway, but I think I'll be okay."

The distinct sounds of a four cylinder engine and mechanical brakes came in from outside. Blaise opened the door, and Harry could see Sergeant James Potter in the driver's seat of the Model T Ford. A woman wearing a military uniform, and an imperious air, stepped down from the rear passenger seat. She strode into the room and looked around.

"Is this the man who hit you, my Lord Potter-Black?" she asked, without prologue.

"It is, ma'am," Harry said.

"And you're Healer Daphne," she said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Ma'am," Daphne said, curtsying out of habit.

"I've heard you know your business, Healer," she stated.

"I do, ma'am," Daphne answered.

The woman looked at Kingsley.

"Take him back," she said, then, turning, spoke to Harry and Daphne. "Well done, you two. Very well done"

With that, she exited and turned the corner. She should have passed by a window a short distance further along the wall, but Harry didn't see her.

Kingsley took charge, issuing a series of succinct instructions.

"Our guest in the Ford, with the Major, in front. Harry, Daphne and Bart in back. The portal will take you to Godric's Hollow, 1899, and you'll drop him in front of Bathilda's. The Sergeant will keep driving and Harry and Daphne can hop off in the lane where you were running, okay? I've got a portal just around the corner, here, a minute from now. See you all tomorrow."

Everyone took their place in the Model T according to Kingsley's directions. Grindelwald was still immobilized, so Blaise used _levicorpus_ to put him in the middle of the front seat. In back, Harry got Daphne settled and handed her Raffles for company. Sergeant James Potter looked at Daphne in her track suit, then at Harry.

"Don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say anything," Harry pleaded, in desperation, trying to will the sergeant into keeping silent about Harry's personal arrangements in the parallel time stream.

Just as Kingsley had said, no sooner had the Ford been put in motion than they appeared in the main street of Godric's Hollow. Harry elbowed Bart Fudge.

"Want to do something? _Levicorpus,_ in front of that house, now!"

Sergeant Potter kept driving as Mr. Fudge used his wand to lift Gellert Grindelwald out of the front seat of the Ford and direct him to Bathilda Bagshot's front gate, where he dropped him. The Model T drove directly into another portal, and out onto the lane between the hedgerows. Sergeant Potter coasted nearly to a stop, as Harry and Daphne stepped onto the running board, then, one after the other, hopped down. Blaise smiled, and saluted with a tap of his wand to his cap bill, just as the Ford entered another portal.

"Quite an operation, just stringing those portals together, the way they did," Harry said. He looked at his watch.

"This way," Daphne said. She put Raffles down in the lane. Raffles promptly began working the hedge row on the left, looking for lively little animals to harass, and coming up short.

They crossed the green and climbed the hill to the house, passing the dormant beds where Daphne had talked to Fabio earlier.

"What time is it?" she asked. "I must have left my watch inside."

Harry told her.

"They have to put us back at the same time we left. Otherwise the time ledgers get unbalanced," Harry said.

Daphne looked like she didn't believe him.

"Honest. At least, that's how it was explained to me," Harry said.

"Well, lucky for you, then, Head Auror, because you're about to get a healthy lunch, prepared just for you, under my supervision," said Daphne.

They climbed in silence for a bit, each keeping their own counsel.

"That guy was a pain in the ass," Harry offered.

"He sure was," Daphne agreed.

"I see what you meant by how disruptive he could be to planning," Harry went on.

"Harry, what did you do to get him to curse himself? I was just trying to keep track of the wands, and then he got hit with something, just before you were all over him," said Daphne.

Harry almost snickered. "I knew I would have a hard time, wand to wand, because he's Gellert Grindelwald, after all, and I suspected he'd do something like he did, and get the drop on me as soon as Raffles brought me there. I guessed he'd get the wands away from me. To make it not seem too easy, I concealed mine in the baton. The trickery was literally schoolboy stuff, very…silly schoolboy stuff. We used to do it to the Slytherins all the time, and they'd do it to us. Mostly the boys. Millicent might know it. I know for sure Ginny does. It's just a jinx, _proxima reverso,_ and all it does is make the wand send the next spell back at the caster. It's just the thing to make your enemy look stupid in Potions. I used your wand to put _proxima reverso_ on mine, so the first thing he tried with my wand went back to him. Of course, all I wanted was a little moment of confusion, so I could move in close and take magic out of the equation, but Grindelwald obliged me by putting a _cruciatus_ on himself. The cur."

"Can we talk about any of this?" asked Daphne.

"Not a word," Harry said. "But the way these things usually work, it will be the prime topic of conversation in the Leaky Cauldron by this time tomorrow. We won't confirm or deny, and the mystery just adds to the legend, of course."

Daphne walked along, pondering Harry's answer. Finally, they stood on the patio, ready to enter the house through the sunny room. Daphne looked at Harry.

"My sweetheart, the Head Auror, is the only person alive who has defeated both Voldemort and Gellert Grindelwald in single combat. Neither of us is allowed to discuss it, with anyone. Does that sound fair to you?" Daphne asked.

"Well," Harry said, "you will be getting included in the rumors, so brace yourself. You're already well-known in magical scholarly and medical circles. You're just moving up a notch on the chart of fame. Maybe we should think about some home improvements, over at The Mill. Would you like that? The fairies seemed glad to see you, and you looked very, very happy in your crown. I expect Raffles would love to run with them."

"The minister did send me home, for the day, and my director saw me working well after dark. You already did rounds. Neither of us will be missed. What if I were to suggest, after lunch, another visit to The Mill, where we'll begin to develop a To-Do list. What do you think?"

Daphne opened the door and stepped into the sunny room, followed by Harry.

"Yes. Absolutely. I need a few hours to clear my head. That sounds perfect," said Daphne. "I may actually need a few days, or weeks, Harry."

"Nothing like a little project to give you that sense of satisfaction, while chasing the unpleasant memories away," Harry said, as if he knew what he was talking about.

"I'm convinced," said Daphne. "The first rule will be, Keep It Simple."

"It will be for getaways," Harry said. "No extraneous complications allowed."

"Peace and quiet," Daphne added.

"Contemplation-friendly," Harry suggested. "But not the hard, problem-solving kind, more like, allowing the problem to present itself as a non-problem."

"Will there be hand-holding?" Daphne asked.

"Lots," Harry assured her.


	22. Chapter 22

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harry and Daphne at The Mill

Harry noticed the table in the sunny room was set for five, which meant Kendra and the elves had been expecting additional parties for lunch. Harry wondered what combination of Kendra, Fabio, Daphne, Astoria, Harry, Draco, or others, that meant.

"How long do we have?" Harry asked Daphne. "I'd like to change, if there's time."

"But Harry, everyone will want to see you looking dashing in your uniform," Daphne protested.

Harry didn't know whether that was a serious comment, or not, but he decided it didn't matter. The uniform had served its purpose, and had earned its rest, in the closet, on a hanger, under a protective cover. Maybe it would come out from time to time, to be worn to a costume party, or a visit to Goodwood in September.

"Even so," Harry said.

"I could stand freshening up, I guess," Daphne said. "Go on up, I'll find Mother and let her know we'll be joining them."

Harry went to his room and found a presentable shirt, khaki slacks, and jacket, which he laid out on his bed. Clean socks and underwear were neatly arranged in a dresser drawer, so he grabbed a pair of each. He was turning shower knobs when Daphne entered the bathroom.

"Quick, in, out, get dried off," she ordered. "Think minutes. Leave the water on when you're finished."

"Oh, well, why not…" Harry began.

Daphne looked at Harry. She looked down and started to laugh.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, Harry, there's no time. I'll have to leave if you are going to be distracted. You'll just have to concentrate. Thank-you, though, I'm SO flattered," Daphne said.

Harry carried out his orders and within a very few minutes he and Daphne, refreshed and wearing clean, country-weekend clothes, were on the stairs down to the ground floor, where they joined Fabio, Kendra and Astoria in the sunny room. Trix was placing a huge tray of cold meat, cheese, cut raw vegetables and mounds of the Greengrass Manor version of Mad Monk bread in the middle of the table.

"How'd it go?" asked Fabio, Kendra and Astoria, in perfect synchrony.

Harry looked at Daphne. Daphne looked at Kendra.

"How…" Daphne asked.

"Harry's been promoted," Astoria offered. "Mother got an owl."

"That's not how he is supposed to find out, Astoria," Kendra advised. "Your colleague, Hermione. Your courtesy rank is now Major General, Harry. You're going to have to act surprised when you're called up to Kingsley's office and informed."

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Daphne gushed.

"But I barely did anything," Harry protested. "Daphne did all the work. She's the brains and the skills. Besides, we aren't supposed to be talking about it."

"That's fine, Harry," Fabio said. "Just be aware, every witch and wizard on this island who pays attention IS talking about it."

Harry looked at Daphne.

"We can't confirm or deny," Daphne said. Harry nodded.

"Is that Swiss fresh?" Harry asked. "It goes great with tomato and onion on that bread, I'm guessing."

Lunch proceeded in that fashion, through coffee, tea and a homemade profiterole, which had displaced Fabio's cheesecake, for reasons unknown. Somehow, between Astoria and Kendra, Harry and Daphne had been induced to give up that Daphne had been captured and held hostage, Harry had been taken to an earlier point in the current timestream by means of a portkey, where he had rescued Daphne, who had then saved the world (to give the short version), by the astute application of her unique combination of Healer/Doctor of Medicine skill set.

"It wasn't THAT big of a deal, honestly, Astoria," Daphne said, earning her three sets of staring eyes, in dumbfounded faces, from her immediate family. "Situations like that are why they teach us to handle magic, aren't they?"

Daphne's final comment seemed to draw the subtle interrogation to a close, and the conversation turned to The Mill. Harry explained for Astoria what The Mill was, and how it had come into his possession. Daphne continued, mentioning Harry's wish to have the building in a habitable condition, as a family retreat to be used for day trips and getaways.

Astoria thought that a splendid idea, and said she was going to press Draco to create such a place somewhere on the Malfoy Manor lands. That is, unless one already existed, and none of the Malfoys had bothered to inform her. Harry finished his second profiterole, and his coffee, and looked over at Daphne.

"Want to go? We won't have much time, with the days so short," Harry said.

"Sure," Daphne replied, getting up. "We'll be back soon. Harry's right, there isn't a lot of light left."

"Grab a cloak," Daphne said in the front hall.

"I'm good," Harry said.

"Please, Harry, it's cold out there, and the sun will be getting low," Daphne observed. "Think about it."

Harry found one cloak large enough, and assumed it was Fabio's. Shortly thereafter, Harry and Daphne had apparated on the flat spot near The Mill. The daylight was better for seeing the building itself than Harry had seen before.

"I'll defer to Fabio on anything having to do with landscape design," Harry said, "but that strikes me as an attractive bit of scenery."

"It's very nice, Harry," Daphne said, "You're going to have a wonderful cottage here someday."

When they got to the yard before the house, Harry turned to Daphne.

"The fairies came out when I was here with Draco and Mr. Greengrass. Maybe we should give them a moment and see if they feel like making an appearance," Harry said.

Harry and Daphne stood still, looking around the clearing between themselves and The Mill. They were about to give up and proceed with an inspection tour when the fairies began to appear. In full daylight, Harry saw, they had a much more ephemeral appearance than they did at night. Their color was the lightest of light straw, which made them hard to see in sunny places.

Once again, a group of fairies broke from the mass and started circling Daphne's head.

"The fairies are just delightful," Daphne said, "but I am wondering if the fairies have something to communicate when they fly around me."

The main group of fairies again formed their ball of tiny points of light, and Harry heard them buzzing as they had before.

"The fairies like the way Daphne looks with her crown, so some fairies make a crown so other fairies can see it," said the voice that seemed to speak for the fairy collective.

"Fair enough," Harry said. "Daphne and I would like to look at the miller's house, if the fairies don't mind."

"Of course, Harry," said the fairies.

"I'd like an elf to come and help us," Harry said. "Will that be acceptable?"

"The fairies are happy to meet Harry's elf," said the voice.

"Let's see if Winky is available," Harry said. "Winky, please come here."

Winky appeared next to Harry with a 'pop' and looked around in what looked like wonderment.

"Where is Winky?" Winky asked. "Hello, Harry Potter."

"Winky, have you met Daphne?" Harry asked. "This is Daphne Greengrass. Daphne, this is Winky. Winky works with the Hogwarts elves, but she has helped me with the flat for several years now.

"Winky, we're at a place called The Mill. The building used to be the miller's house as well as the mill where the people ground grain. The fairies are part of the Earth hereabouts. They look after Daphne, and me, when we're at The Mill.

"This is Winky," Harry said to the fairies. "Winky is highly skilled at housekeeping and is here to help Daphne and me with The Mill."

Harry stopped talking and watched the fairies move about.

"Welcome, Winky," said the voice. Harry, Daphne and Winky waited, but it appeared there wouldn't be any more conversation coming from the fairies.

Harry turned and led the way to the front door. The door opened easily when Harry pulled on the handle. Inside, the house looked the same as it had on Harry's previous visit.

"The first thing we need to do, Winky," Harry said, "is to get everything clean. The floor, windows, those cobwebs up in the corners…"

Winky went to work. No sooner did she spot dust, dirt, cobwebs or smudges that didn't belong, than she snapped her fingers and the place sparkled.

"Winky, you know kitchens," Harry said. "What do you think of this little stove? Is it usable, or do we need to get a new one?"

Winky checked the iron and nickel stove, opening the firebox and looking around inside, pulling the racks out of the interior of the oven, and generally giving it a thorough inspection. She got to the top, cooking surface, and pulled the tea kettle apart, even holding it up to a window to look for pinholes.

Daphne caught Harry's eye and pointed toward the ceiling. Harry took it that she wanted to take a look at the upper floor, so he left Winky to her cleaning and inspecting, and followed Daphne to the wooden steps.

"Careful," Harry said. "We don't know what condition any of this is in."

Daphne tried each step before putting her weight on it. The general condition continued to be good, however, and both proceeded to the second floor. The first thing Harry noticed was the large wooden door that penetrated the wall beneath the gable on one end of the large, open room. He waved his wand at the door, and it parted in the middle, two half-doors swinging outward from hinges on both sides of the penetration. Opening the doors let the outside light flood into the second floor room, which let Harry and Daphne look around in more detail. Most of the fixtures for handling grain had been removed, but some fittings remained. The second floor was one great room, a bit dusty, but not showing any signs of disrepair. Besides the double door, there were small windows at various points, just under the eaves.

"Want to check on Winky, then take a look around outside?" Harry asked.

"Works for me," Daphne said, following Harry downstairs.

Winky was involved with her cleaning. She looked up at Harry and Daphne and waved them out the front door.

"Looks like that is going just fine," Harry said.

"It's got great bones, Harry," Daphne said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"House lingo," Daphne said. "If the structure is solid, and you've got space to work with, the building has great bones. Like a skeleton."

"Ah," Harry said, "I get it. I've never heard the phrase before. Can you work with it?"

"Oh, Harry, it's a gem. We need to finish the cleanup. Then comes bathrooms. Father will want to measure and draw up plans, so we can get him to handle the design of a couple of bathrooms. Water to that end of the kitchen where we cook. Some basic furniture, then, and you'll have a delightful cottage," Daphne finished.

They had continued walking away from the cottage after they exited via the front door. A group of fairies left the clearing with them, orbiting Daphne's head as she walked. From time to time they turned around and looked back at The Mill. Harry kept track, but couldn't decide that one aspect was any more pleasing than the others. When they reached the stream that fed the pond, Harry observed that they'd have to decide whether to turn around or wade across. He made a mental note to look into the possibility of constructing a bridge over the stream at some convenient place.

Daphne thought that considering the December temperatures it might be a good idea to put off wading the stream, unless Harry knew a warming/drying charm for such eventualities. They agreed they'd both make the effort to research such a charm before their next visit.

"You need to see the mill pond," Harry said. "It's not to be missed."

"Lead the way, and we'd better check on Winky. Can't let her overdo," Daphne said.

Winky was still cleaning away inside. The large room was dust-free, the brass lamps shone, the cobwebs were gone, and a fire was laid in the great fireplace. The little iron stove was clean and the nickel fittings polished. Winky had cleaned and polished the floor, revealing a walking surface of black slate squares. The elf had moved on to the bedroom off the great room, which was also clean, ceiling, walls and floor. The wooden bed frame had been cleaned and polished as well.

"Oh, Winky, you've done a wonderful job," Daphne exclaimed. "Do you want to take a little break? We've come to look at the mill pond. Why don't you come out with us?"

"Of course, Miss Daphne, Winky would love to look at the mill pond with you," the little elf replied, which wasn't a great revelation, since the elves lived their lives trying to please the witches and wizards they served.

"Here it is," Harry said. "If we're quiet, some of the fish might swim by for us."

Harry was surprised to see the pond was ice-free. He had expected it to have at least some ice, but apparently the temperatures hadn't quite dipped low enough to freeze the surface.

After a bit, there was some movement apparent in the pond, and several large fish cruised up near the surface.

"Trout," Harry observed. "Mr. Greengrass mentioned the old millers often raised fish in the mill ponds, generally trout. We'll have to arrange for some supplemental fish food. Can't have them wintering over without a balanced diet."

"I think we're done working for the day, Winky," Daphne said. "Would you like to get back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Miss Daphne," Winky said, "The students are away for Christmas break, and the elves are busy. Winky can come back to The Mill whenever you need her."

"Thank-you, Winky, you did great work today," Harry said. "Say hello to everyone at Hogwarts from Daphne and me. We'll plan for a visit soon."

Winky walked a little way off and snapped her fingers, disappearing with a 'pop.' Harry turned and walked back to the front door. He walked up the stairs far enough to see the double doors in the gable, waving them closed with his wand. Coming back down, he looked around. No windows were open, Winky had not started a fire in the fireplace or the stove, and the lower floor appeared secure. Back outside, Harry turned right and sat down on the bench near the door. Daphne sat beside him.

Harry took her hand in his.

"It's tradition," he said. "Starting today."

"Oh, goody, let's come back lots!" Daphne enthused.

"Mrs. Greengrass was here waiting for us, because she got an owl from Hermione," Harry observed.

"Yes," Daphne agreed.

"We never got back to that, after the St. Mungo's Ball. What were all those witches doing passing by our table, paying respects? Mrs. Greengrass looked like she was holding court."

"Harry, I don't know all of it. I didn't join up, because it's centered on runes, casting runes, specifically. It is a kind of lodge. Mother has been the Grand Dame in recent years. Hermione is her designated successor. It's a bit secretive, but the rune-witches have great respect for the Grand Dame, and they come by on occasions like the ball, and present themselves, maybe ask for a little advice, and Mother asks about their families and gives them assurances she is thinking of them. As for what they get up to when they're not out in public where we can keep an eye on them, I don't know. I'm not one of them, so they don't open up about everything to me, not even Mother. If I was one, I'd have to be circumspect, like you are with your duels."

"Everyone finds out about my duels, eventually," Harry said, a little regret in his voice.

"What do you suppose my mum and yours were working on, back, you know," Harry said.

"When Voldemort killed your parents?" Daphne asked. "Some seriously advanced witchcraft, most certainly. Who else do we know who has been brought out to be introduced to the fairies?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, please, Harry," Daphne said, "But your mother was ready for him. She knew he was coming, and she knew how to defeat him. She didn't improvise that on the spot. Do you know what I mean?"

"I do," Harry said. "It took me a long, long time to figure it out, then it took even longer for me to accept it. I resented her for it, terribly, feeling sorry for myself, orphaned, raised by Aunt Petunia. Then I felt devastated by guilt for feeling the resentment. Maybe you should turn me into a specimen. Mount me on a glass slide. You could get a really good research paper out of it."

Harry squeezed Daphne's hand, and she squeezed back.

"I don't know if this helps, or not," Daphne said. "Everything you described is completely normal, and you are entitled to feel your feelings. You've done nothing wrong. You were put in a difficult position, but, because of Lily, all of us are free of him. I could become a healer because you stood up for light over darkness, and your mother gave you the power to prevail. The rest of us owe you both a debt that will never be fully repaid, Harry."

Harry sat on the bench, staring across the clearing toward the little flat-topped knob.

"You know, I always feel so much better after we talk," he said.

"New subject: The Mill. It needs a little exterior work, fixing up the stucco, and there are a very few of the slate shingles that look like they could be replaced or reset. Then we need bathrooms, and some furniture. There must have been a vegetable garden at some point, so we'll want to locate that. Anything else?"

"I don't see what there would be, at least not at the start. Good, tight weather surfaces, comfortable chairs by the fireplace. Fairies," Daphne said. "What more could we ask for? Are we ready to go back?"

"Yes, or I'll go to sleep right here," Harry said.

They stood up and walked to the flat spot that worked so well for apparating, still holding hands.


	23. Chapter 23

_A Note to Readers: Disclaimer – the author makes no claim on any characters in this story. All belong to JK Rowling, creator of the complex and endlessly fascinating Potterverse. Thanks, Ms. Rowling!_

 _All comments are appreciated, even the negative. Those simply serve to confirm that readers are reading and getting involved with the characters and plot. That affirmation is the sole payoff for writers of fanfiction, isn't it?_

 _Thank-you to everyone who took the time to write._

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty-Three

Harry Finally Gets Around to Asking

The following morning began a string of highly productive weeks for both Harry and Daphne. There was plenty of work, at St. Mungo's and the ministry, but crises that threatened British wizardry were largely absent. Draco and Astoria were honored at lunches and receptions. Daphne attended a few, but as a guest, having done her sisterly duty hosting the party at #12 Grimmauld Place. Not only had the party been one of the most coveted invitations of the winter season, Harry had given all in attendance the extra special gift of insider gossip. The party was quickly becoming legend, and the lucky attendees were given the collective nickname "The One Hundred," for the number Daphne and Tracey had tried to maintain. One wag had already claimed to have counted two hundred and twenty confirmed members of The One Hundred, according to self-descriptions obtained from the alleged invitees.

Whenever possible, Harry and Daphne went to The Mill for some cleaning, whitewashing, stuccoing, or other task that needed to be done, in order to get The Mill ready for summer.

Fabio had visited and almost immediately saw a solution to the lack of bathrooms, and drew up plans for a small, dedicated addition to the original building that would provide for two commodious baths. He drew on his connections in the magical construction community and had The Mill fully equipped in a matter of weeks. In theory, the main building was ready for occupancy, but Harry and Daphne took their time acquiring furniture. Both wanted to keep the place as simple as possible, so the point of a getaway would not get lost in a maelstrom of excessive possessions.

The calendar had just changed from February to March when Harry got a note from Millicent Bulstrode.

"Harry," it read.

"We spoke about you visiting Hogwarts in the spring to spend some time with the sixth and seventh year DADA students. You have some potential recruits here, and the seventh years who met you last year have been asking me when you're coming back for what they refer to as Field Day. It sounds like the one thing that stuck in their minds from last year was you putting them through the aurors' physical fitness routines. A couple of them claim to have not missed a day of working out all year.

"I recall you said March was about right for us to start making arrangements. The only potential conflict at the moment is with the NEWTs, now scheduled for the third week in May.

"Our best to your lovely Daphne,

"Regards,

"Millicent"

Harry and Daphne had spent the morning, on the Saturday of the first week of March, at the ministry and St. Mungo's, respectively. They'd pre-arranged to meet for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, and found their way back to the small booth that stood near the fireplace.

"I think this is the best table here," Daphne observed.

"I know," Harry said. "I considered putting yellow tape around it this morning, so it would be here for you when we arrived."

"Harry Potter, if I ever hear of you doing such a thing…" Daphne started up.

Harry tilted his head in a 'Really?' gesture.

"Harry, sometimes I can't tell, and I'm not alone, because I know you do it to everyone. I've seen it. Ron and Neville seem to get it every time, but they're the only ones," Daphne protested.

"Moving along then," Harry said, reaching in his pocket and coming up with a folded note card. "This arrived, so you'll need to exercise your magical planning calendar."

Daphne read Millicent's note.

"That works," Daphne said. "I owe some of my mentors a visit. Do you usually take a whole day?"

"It ends up like that," Harry said. "The program with the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes is a lecture for all the sixth and seventh years, then questions and answers, then out to the pitch for some physical fitness. The package takes around four hours. We've done it morning and afternoon. If we do the classes in the morning, I have lunch with the DADA professor in the Great Hall, then courtesy calls in the afternoon. Madame Pomfrey and the Headmistress are always glad to see me, especially if I'm in one piece at the time."

"One can see where that would be a plus, for a positive visit, overall," Daphne said.

"When are you thinking you'd like to do it?" she asked.

"Latter half of April, first week of May, for the weather," Harry answered. "That is usually a nice period, unless we're having an exceptionally wet spring."

"There is one other thing you owe me," Daphne said, her tone turning serious. "Frank and Alice Longbottom are due for your field trip. They have shown steady improvement since your visit the night of the ball. Someone let it slip that they were going for an outing whenever Healer Daphne gave her permission, and I'm now hearing about it every time I go in the room."

"Neville," Harry said.

Daphne looked across the table.

"Had to be Neville," Harry said.

"Harry is using his accusatory tone," said a voice. Harry turned around.

"Neville! Didn't see you there. Daphne suspects me of plotting to spring your parents. I've no idea what she thinks I'm going to do with them," Harry said.

"Small house salad, one piece of Mad Monk bread with crème fraiche, mineral water?" Neville suggested, drawing on long experience.

"The perfect lunch, yes, please," said Daphne.

"Do you have the vegetable soup today?" Harry asked.

"We do," Neville said. "It's the sweet-hot version, and it comes with cornbread muffins."

"I'll have a bowl, then, and a butterbeer," Harry said. "What did Madame Augusta pick for our outing?"

"York," Neville said.

"York?" questioned Harry and Daphne, together.

"Specifically, the cathedral," Neville said. "She worked different places into conversations, listened very carefully, observed their reactions, and got all positives for a visit to the cathedral. Dad seems to be a wealth of information on it, for some reason. Anyway, Gran thinks a couple of hours being tourists in York won't bring up unpleasant associations."

Harry looked at Daphne. Daphne pursed her lips.

"York it is, then," Daphne said. "I'd like a little more spring-like weather, but that is going to be here any day, now. The Head Auror is said to have been behind this, so he will undoubtedly make himself available for escorting our VIPs."

"He'll consider it an honor and a privilege," Harry said.

"Done," Neville said. "Sit tight, lunch is on the way."

Neville left for the kitchen.

"Lots of history, up there, in York," Harry said.

"You know this, how, exactly?" Daphne asked. "Have you ever actually been to York?"

"Of course," Harry said. "It's that way." He gestured, a vague flap of his wrist and hand.

"Harry," said someone.

"Anthony," Harry said, looking up.

"And Daphne," Anthony Goldstein said.

"Hullo, Anthony, got time to sit down with us?" Daphne asked.

"I already ate, but tea sounds really good right now, for some reason," Anthony said. "Tell you what, I have some actual business, with Harry, so if I steal him for a couple of minutes, will you order some tea, then we'll be right back?"

Daphne was a little puzzled over what Anthony had to discuss with Harry that he couldn't discuss in front of her, but assumed it was probably legal or FA Cup-related and Anthony wanted to limit the circle of the witting. Harry got up and followed Anthony out of the main room and down the short hallway that served the Leaky Cauldron's private dining rooms. The rooms were all familiar to the regulars, and Anthony chose one that he estimated had the least chance of occupation at that time on a Saturday. Once inside, he closed the door and reached in the pocket of his jacket, bringing out a small red velvet-covered box.

"This is it. Go ahead and take a look," he said, handing the box to Harry.

Harry opened the lid and saw the ring he had commissioned so he could do a proper job of proposing to Daphne.

"It is incredible!" he nearly shouted. Then, dropping his voice, he asked, "Who did you get to do this?"

The stone was a very substantial emerald inside a ring of diamonds in a platinum setting. Somehow, the jeweler had worked a snake and a lion, in relief, into the base of platinum under the stones.

"One of the goblin houses," Anthony shrugged. Then he amended his answer. "One of the _better_ goblin houses, I should say. I can get you the details sometime."

"What do I owe you?" Harry asked.

"You were very generous, Harry. What you gave me to get it started covered everything. You don't owe me anything," Anthony said. "Just so you know, if you propose, and she accepts your goblin-made ring, after she accepts, the ring is hers alone, if and until she willingly gives it away. If anyone takes it wrongfully, the ring should find its way back to Daphne."

"Thank-you Anthony, you have really come through," Harry said.

"Well, of course," Anthony said with a laugh. "Otherwise, Uncle Robert would never let me hear the end of it! I'm ready for some tea and table talk. Good luck, Harry."

Anthony stuck out his hand, and Harry shook it.

"Thanks, Anthony," he said, putting the ring box in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Anthony left after two cups of tea and some light conversation, pleading additional business to be done at Gringott's.

"Are you two in business together?" Daphne asked, after Anthony had taken his leave.

"Not exactly. He is my informal consultant on minerals. I inherited mines, and know nothing about the business," Harry left it at that.

Daphne didn't think she had heard everything, but, if it was important, she assumed Harry would fill her in. He might, as he had on other things, wait until they were someplace private to do so.

Lunch was soon over, and Harry and Daphne prepared to leave.

"Flat?" Harry asked, as they stood before the Leaky Cauldron's huge fireplace.

"Any particular reason?" Daphne asked.

"No, but I don't have a reason to go anyplace, in particular," Harry said.

"The Mill?" Daphne asked.

"Why not?" Harry asked. "The Mill is perfect."

Harry visualized The Mill and dropped some floo powder, improvising the floo address as, 'The Mill.'"

Moments later, they walked out of the fireplace in the main room. Harry was a bit surprised to discover The Mill's fireplace was connected to the floo network, but he wasn't about to start a discussion with a fireplace in hopes of fleshing out his knowledge. Everything looked neat, clean and organized. The spartan furnishings were a refreshing contrast to the busy atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron. The weather wasn't bad, for March. At least there was no snow, rain or sleet coming down, and Harry opened the door to let in some fresh air and sunshine.

Harry crossed the room and climbed the stairs. He checked the double door under the gable and found it secure. None of the windows had been opened. Harry heard the sound of water running, coming from the addition Fabio had designed, which had somehow acquired the name 'The Baths,' as if The Mill had become a Roman villa. Shortly afterwards Daphne appeared at the top of the stairs.

"We need to think about how to furnish this," Harry said, referring to the second floor.

"True," Daphne said. "It's all potential at the moment. All free space, except for that big post in the middle. Do you want it open or divided? Sitting or sleeping? That drives the furnishings."

"A couple wouldn't need the space, strictly speaking," Harry said. "There is a bedroom, baths, cooking and eating spaces all downstairs. But what if you had overnight guests? The second floor could be part sitting room, on one side, and a bed and dresser, behind a screen, perhaps, on the other side. Assign bathrooms if there is another couple staying?"

Daphne stood near the center post, taking mental measurements, looking back and forth. Harry remembered what Daphne had said about being Fabio's architectural assistant when she was little.

"It would work. When I get some parchment and a quill I'll draw up a sketch or two and we'll get started," Daphne said.

They went back downstairs and crossed the main room. A few fairies had appeared in the doorway, apparently curious to see who was in the house. Harry left the door open and went out and sat on the bench.

"Did you cast a warming charm?" asked Daphne when she walked outside. The fairies had found her and were giving her the crown treatment.

"Not yet," Harry said. "I didn't know how long I'd be out. It's sunny. I'm not cold yet."

Daphne walked over and sat down beside him. They sat in silence, watching the fairies zoom about, and beyond to the little flat-topped knob.

"I hope the day comes when we hear children's voices here," Harry said.

The statement was highly uncharacteristic of Harry, and Daphne wondered what he meant. She knew he was quite fond of Teddy, but this sounded like a different sentiment. Daphne waited for Harry to expand on his brief announcement, and when he didn't go on, she decided to give him a little feedback.

"That is a beautiful thought, Harry," she said.

"Thank-you," Harry said. "I thought so too. I'm glad we agree."

Harry stood up, and got down on one knee, in front of Daphne, who sat on the bench wearing her crown of fairies.

"Will you?" Harry asked.

"Will you marry me? You said you would once before, but we still had to figure out what to do about Grindelwald, and then, I don't know why, we never got around to me asking again, so, I want to ask, formally, if you will let me be your husband?" Harry finished.

By this time he held both of her hands in both of his, and felt, to be truthful, like a puppy begging to be patted and told he was a good boy by the nice lady with the crown of tiny lights.

Daphne held onto her dignity as long as she could, which wasn't very long, then she threw her arms around Harry and pulled him to her in a great bear hug, rocking him back and forth, saying, "Of course, of course, I accept, I accept, I love you and I always have," followed by some affirmations that were, honestly, incoherent, although clearly heartfelt.

Harry didn't want the hugging and accepting to end, so he went semi-limp and let Daphne treat him like a rag doll for as long as she wanted. In moments of reflection later on, he found himself pondering why it had never gotten boring, being wrung out like a wet towel. When Daphne stopped hugging, she put her hands on Harry's upper arms and held him out in front of her while she beamed at him.

"Yes," Daphne said, quite simply, "Yes." Harry guessed that was her formal answer.

"That is just wonderful," Harry said. "Now, it is traditional…"

He reached into his inside pocket and found the velvet box, which he pulled out and held between them with both hands. He opened the lid of the box and turned it so the ring was facing Daphne.

Daphne's response incorporated a significant amount of 'ooooh-ing and aaaaah-ing' in between, 'Oh, Harry' and 'It's beautiful.' Harry had commissioned the ring, through Anthony, so there weren't any others like it, which meant he had to explain how he got it, who made it, and so on. Harry took a moment to explain the goblin origin, and how Anthony had related the charmed nature of the ring, how once she accepted it from Harry it belonged only to Daphne, and that it should always find its way back to her, should anyone acquire it wrongfully.

"Harry, it is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen, and I accept both it, and your proposal," Daphne said. Harry removed the ring from the box and put it on Daphne's finger. They looked into one another's eyes, then, at some unspoken signal, they closed the gap between themselves and kissed, for a very long time.

Had Harry planned better, they would have had some food and beverages stockpiled, or would have brought provisions with them when they came to The Mill. As it was, Harry was able to boil water and make tea, which he brought out to Daphne. Sitting on the bench with the tea, they took their time, enjoying the fairies' company, but inevitably reached the end of their culinary possibilities.

"We can go back to #12, or the flat, or Greengrass Manor," Daphne said, citing the short list of options.

Harry thought he detected a subtle change of tone when Daphne said, "Greengrass Manor," which led him to speculate she might be thinking about taking her ring, along with Harry, back home to allow Kendra, and Astoria, if Astoria were there, to join her in admiring the beauty, craftsmanship, and perfect harmony between the ring and her hand.

"You pick," Harry said. "Just so there is a prospect of getting a little something to eat, wherever we go, because lunch will soon begin receding in my memory."

"Well," Daphne said, wrapping both arms around one of Harry's, "I think Mother ought to be apprised of our arrangement, and I think Father would appreciate a little courtesy call. You might even get one of his cigars out of him, should you make a positive impression."

"The manor it is, then," Harry said, turning for the door. "Let's make sure we're good here."

Ten minutes later Harry and Daphne apparated just outside the wards, and walked down the gravel path to the talking gate.

"Hell-OOOHH, Miss Daphne, and Head Auror, welcome back, and, am I to understand there is some happy news you'll be sharing, or was I misinformed?" said the talking gate.

"How can something made from metal bars be cheeky?" Harry asked. "It sounds like a metaphysical impossibility…"

"Indeed, it does, doesn't it?" asked the gate. "And yet, here we are."

"Mr. Potter proposed marriage, and I accepted," said Daphne. "Feel free to share in our joy."

"So gracious," squeeked the gate as it closed, "Ever since she was a toddler."

"Father installed the gate when I was fifteen," Daphne said. "When I was a toddler it could have been iron ore."

Trix opened the door when Daphne's foot touched down on the step.

"Welcome, Miss Daphne, and Master Harry, please come in. Mr. Greengrass is in his office and Mrs. Greengrass is in the library."

Harry and Daphne did a reciprocal hand squeeze and headed to the two closed doors. Harry knocked, and Fabio answered, "Come in," and Harry opened the door, as Daphne gave him a wink.

Harry didn't know what to expect from Fabio, but he had come with some serious business to discuss, so he dispensed with preliminaries and got to it.

"Mr. Greengrass, I asked Daphne to marry me a short while ago, and she said yes. We hope to have your blessing, and that of Mrs. Greengrass," Harry said.

Fabio started to laugh. "Of course, of course, you have our blessing, Harry," Fabio said. "Lily and Kendra knew what they were about. The two of you are the definition of compatible. I'm sure you'll be very happy together. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your coming to tell me formally. A wary father worried about his little girl scenario doesn't really apply, in this case, does it? And yet, I can tell you, Harry, you might find out for yourself one day, when a father has this conversation, there is a little tug on his heart."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, then. Do you want to know about my finances, or anything? I assure you I can support her. Not that she needs support, I'm sure her practice keeps her in pin money."

"Harry, do you have any vices? Alcohol? Trouble managing your properties? Are you in hock up to your eyeballs? No? Well, let's just dispense with that, then," Fabio said. "Are the ladies in the library?"

Harry nodded.

"Then grab one of these," Fabio said holding out an open cigar box, "and we'll go see one of the wonders of Greengrass Manor. I highly recommend you do something like it when you're developing your place."

Fabio led the way through the house and out to the gazebo. The evening air was quite chilly as the first day of spring was still some days away. Thus, Harry was surprised when Fabio waved his wand and the gazebo instantly warmed to a very pleasant temperature. Harry could see for the first time the genius behind the gazebo. It was open to the freshness of the ambient air, yet, somehow, the temperature could be adjusted to allow outdoor activities, such as cigar smoking, to proceed in comfort.

Fabio and Harry rolled their cigars around in their fingers, then put them in their mouths to enjoy the taste of the wrapper for a little while, then got around to cutting off the end. Each used _inflammare_ to light his cigar.

"Sorry, Harry, where are my manners?" Fabio said. "Congratulations. Kendra and I really enjoy seeing you and Daphne together, and we wish you many happy years of marriage. Welcome to our family. As an adult, I suppose."

Fabio paused and looked into the distance. So many wizards, Harry had observed, had been affected by the trauma of the wizarding wars. Almost anything could bring up a memory, of battle, lost friends and family, the unbridgeable divisions left behind after the violence stopped.

"I think we would have seen a lot of you, when you and Daphne were young, had it not been for your tragedy. I apologize. I'm getting on and starting to sound like it," Fabio said.

"No apology necessary. You're right, Mrs. Greengrass and my mum were close. We should have all grown up together, Daphne, Tracey, Susan, Neville, me," Harry said, getting his own distant look going.

The two wizards sat in silence, puffing their cigars, blowing out smoke that rose to the ceiling of the gazebo. Finally, Fabio broke the silence.

"Where did you ask her?"

"The Mill," Harry said. "With the fairies flying around."

"Very impressive indeed, Harry" Fabio said, after a pause. "You'd better ask her to keep that part to herself. Sincerely. Otherwise, you'll have all your contemporaries pestering you to arrange a fly-by of fairies for them, because their darlings heard about Daphne's fairies and they want fairies, too."

Harry was still laughing at Fabio's advice when Kendra and Daphne appeared in the entry way to the gazebo.

"Daphne has something to show you, Fabio," Kendra said.

Daphne walked over to where Fabio sat puffing cigars with Harry and held out her left hand.

"Well, that is dazzling, sweetheart. Did you remember to say thank-you?" Fabio asked.

"I AM the thank-you," Daphne said, getting answering 'whoo-hooos' from her parents.

"Well put, dear, you certainly are," Fabio said, standing up. He reached out for Daphne and pulled her into a hug, breaking to give her a little peck on the cheek, then hugging some more.

"Your mother and I are very happy for you both. Harry tells me you were at The Mill? The magic comes out of the Earth there, like a spring. Do you sense it, when you're there? Maybe it's just an old gardener talking, but I can't think of a better place for a young couple to start off together. What a story to tell your children, if I'm not being presumptuous."

"You're not," said Harry and Daphne, in unison, starting the appreciative chuckling over again.

Fabio looked at Kendra.

"So," he said. "Two. Both of them."

"I know, Fabio, don't push me too far, now," Kendra replied.

"Thanks to Merlin, there is apparation," Daphne said. "You ought to be able to track us down whenever you're feeling the need."

"Well, good luck for two lifetimes of happiness together," Fabio said. "Now, I think a proper toast is in order, what do you say, Kendra?"

"Of course, it's obligatory, isn't it?" Kendra asked. "Trix? Could we have four glasses of the oldest mead out here in the gazebo?"

The glasses of mead were generous, and the toasts were still going forward when Astoria appeared in the door of the sunny room.

"What are you all doing in the gazebo at this time of night?" she called out.

"Come out and see for yourself," Daphne answered.

Astoria made her way down the walk.

"Nice, except for the smoke," she said as she entered. "What's going on?"

"I got something new," Daphne said. "Take a look."

With that, Daphne held out her hand. Astoria took one look and screamed,

"Aaaaaagh—DAPHNE! Are you engaged? He asked? And you said yes?"

Daphne just nodded yes to all the questions, then absorbed Astoria's momentum as she crashed into her and applied her arms to an epic hug.

"Oh, you're going to be so happy, I can tell," followed by lots of 'Mwah'-like sounds that accompanied a series of kisses to both sides of Daphne's face.

"And YOU!" Astoria said, directing her remarks to Harry. "You're going to marry my sister and try to monopolize her time and attention, aren't you? Do your best, Harry Potter, just so you know, you've got serious competition!"

Astoria had grabbed Harry's lapels and was pushing and pulling him, back and forth, for punctuation during her speech, ending with a final pull and another hug.

"Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, Harry, I wondered when you were going to get around to officially claiming her," Astoria said, before letting Harry go and stepping back to turn toward Daphne.

"Okay, let's see it," Astoria demanded, holding out her two hands to receive Daphne's left. "Oh, Merlin, it is perfect."

The ring conversation went on for quite a while longer, with lots of superlatives for every feature, before the talk turned to announcements, picking a wedding date, Seamus and Dean, and other necessities. Trix brought Astoria a glass of mead of her own, and Astoria began toasting all over again. Harry wasn't the only one thinking about an evening meal, and Kendra declared it was time to return to the manor, so the elves could get dinner on the table.

Dinner was substantial, but Harry had the foresight to plan ahead for dessert. The Greengrass elves' cheesecake was exceptional, as Harry had come to expect. The profiterole had disappeared from the menu as mysteriously as it had appeared. Harry made a mental note, to listen carefully, and to try and figure out what controlled the movement of menu items at Greengrass Manor.

"Harry, have you met our Grandmother Davis?" Astoria asked at one point.

Harry looked at Daphne. Kendra looked at Fabio.

"Astoria, we were not quite there, yet," Daphne offered.

"So, no," Harry answered. "We haven't met. I sense there is background that I'm not yet read in on."

"The Davises, well, some of them, not Tracey, of course, but Grandmother, and some others, were on Voldemort's side, Harry," Daphne said. "None of them made it to Death Eater status, but they bought into the program. She knows a bit about us. Not everything."

Harry looked from Daphne to Kendra and back.

"I won't be the cause of family disruption," Harry said. "Not willingly. If it means difficulties for you all, just don't press the issue, and maybe you can finesse it. Will she come after me if we're in the same room at the same time?"

Harry's question was sincere, but he couldn't have told a joke that would have gotten a bigger response. Everyone had a reply, once they'd stopped laughing.

"No, Harry," from Fabio.

"If you'd ever seen her…" from Astoria.

"Those days are behind her," Daphne said. She looked at Kendra and they both started up again.

"She came to her senses, in the aftermath, Harry," Kendra said, when she had regained her powers of speech. "Even a pureblood partisan had to admit allying with the likes of Fenrir Greyback was indefensible. At the same time, she doesn't like to be reminded of her dalliance with the Dark. I think, though, it might be time to help her move along.

"She isn't as strong as she once was. She seldom leaves the house. You didn't have her at Astoria and Draco's party for that reason," Kendra concluded.

Harry thought about what he'd just heard.

"I think I am just going to put myself in your hands," Harry said. "I'm happy to do whatever works for you."

"That's very accommodating, Harry," Daphne said.

"It's not _exactly_ walking the plank," Astoria added, earning a look from Kendra for her efforts.

"Daphne just got done helping me work on the Blacks. I understand you played a critical role at one point, too, Astoria, and many thanks to you for that. Madame Walburga is right. We keep our families together before everything else. Tell me the best way I can help with that, and I'll do it," Harry finished.

Conversation wound down over the next quarter-hour, until Fabio excused himself and went upstairs, followed shortly afterwards by Kendra. Daphne suggested relocating to the library. Harry put another log in the fireplace, and the revived fire made the library cozy and conducive to short exchanges and long intervals of staring into the flames and taking miniscule tastes of mead.

"Harry, thank you for the photos from the party. They came out great," Astoria said. "I thought Narcissa was going to cry when I gave her the one of her and Andromeda."

"It wasn't our intention to make anyone cry," Harry said.

"Your magical portrait was a big hit with Lucius, too," Astoria continued. "Are you sure you didn't want it?"

"Well, I can't very well take it back now, so whether I might want it or not is irrelevant," Harry said, earning a snort from Daphne.

"He didn't have a place for it when he put in the order. The walls over there are a Black family historical museum as it is," Daphne continued.

"Having never seen one before, I wanted to get a good look at a magical _camera obscura_ portrait. We could have put it in storage until Potter Manor is available, but it seemed like a good way to get it some exposure, to send it to the Malfoys," Harry said. "Where did they put it? Someplace where it shows off Draco to his best advantage, if I know Narcissa."

"Harry Potter, you're gossiping about my in-laws," Astoria said, doing a fairly credible job of feigning outrage. "Not exactly. Lucius fake-offered it to everyone, then claimed it for his study, which is also devoid of wall space. He brought in an easel that is positioned so the portrait is the first thing anyone sees when they walk in.

"He keeps himself occupied and out of trouble these days by researching and brewing old, out-of-fashion potions. He has actually written two articles that have been published. He's beginning to get some recognition, so he has a fair number of potioneers calling at the manor. All of them get to see him lined up with Daphne, Harry, Teddy, and the rest of us, in front of Madame Walburga's portrait. Thanks to Draco and me, he and Narcissa are certified members of The One Hundred, with the portrait to prove it," said Astoria. "He's as rehabilitated as he's likely to get."

This brought a genuine belly-laugh from Daphne, and even Harry had to smile.

"So, he had some potential for something other than mayhem all along?" Harry offered. "Potions? Of all things."

"Yes, apparently, he was pretty good at Hogwarts, but he had a fatal weakness for a certain charismatic Dark Lord," Astoria said. "Now he has reverted to the thing he really was good at, having failed, kind of spectacularly, in his bid for power. Thanks to his benefactor, Harry Potter," Astoria added as an afterthought. "And, you two do what you want, but I think I've had it for tonight. See you at breakfast."

Astoria got up and left the library, and Harry and Daphne scooted closer to each other and watched the last piece of wood turn to glowing coals in the fireplace. Harry reached over Daphne and pulled her closer.

"We need to get our magical planning calendars out tomorrow and synchronize," Harry said. "We need a date for a visit to Hogwarts, a date for Neville's parents' outing, an overnight at The Mill, and the Draco-Astoria festivities. Have they picked an actual day?"

"Second week in June, actual day still to be determined," Daphne replied.

"Are they planning a honeymoon?" Harry asked.

"They both say they want to do something, but low-key. To be honest, they are showing signs of wedding fatigue. I've noticed a little listlessness at times, a bit of 'Ho-hum' response to suggestions for activity. If asked, I'd say the round of parties and luncheons is becoming a bit stale," said Daphne. "It isn't just Draco and Astoria. It's wedding season, and plenty of people they know are doing the same thing, so the result is a big minuet, couple after couple taking a turn parading down the ranks."

Harry stared at the coals glowing red between the fireplace irons.

"I hope they can make it to June," he said.

"Let's find a few minutes to take them by The Mill. We'll introduce Astoria to the fairies, and they can see how it's coming along. If it's a match, we'll offer The Mill for their honeymoon. It's usable now, even if we are thinking of doing something on the upper floor. We can stock it for a few days and they can get away from everything and everyone. Sit and watch the fairies. Stroll the lanes together, smell the wildflowers. I think I could negotiate Winky's presence for a few hours a day, to tidy up after them," said Harry.

Daphne got out from under Harry's arm, put her own arm over his shoulders and pulled him to her.

With her lips right next to his ear, she said, "The Mill _is_ a very romantic place, isn't it? A newlywed couple certainly could have a wonderful time, enjoying one another's company in the solitude."

"So you noticed that, too?" Harry said. "I thought I was the only one."

"Nice memories made at The Mill last a lifetime," Daphne said. Then she held her left hand out and wiggled her fingers in front of them both.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked. "I wanted to give you something witchy."

"You succeeded," said Daphne. "A goblin-made, enchanted ring, in my house colors with our snake and lion, given to me by the Head Auror of Britain, a decorated Major General, who time-traveled to rescue me from a master criminal and knelt before me like a pilgrim and asked for my hand. There has never been a more witchy romance, and I doubt there ever will be."


	24. Chapter 24

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty-Four

Harry and Daphne Host a Picnic

As it turned out, Harry and Daphne almost missed Astoria at breakfast, because Astoria took a very long time getting downstairs the next morning. Plates had been cleared and Fabio, Kendra, Daphne and Harry were all close to finishing their second cups of coffee when Astoria wandered into the sunny room next to the patio. The weather had changed overnight, and the doors were open, letting in sunshine and fresh spring air. The birdsong at times made conversation difficult, but no one complained.

Astoria was wearing a long emerald green housecoat with a Slytherin house badge on the upper left side, with a pair of slides on her feet featuring the trademark of a popular manufacturer of athletic shoes. She appeared to have splashed water on her face and brushed her hair back, but those exercises had only gone so far in getting Astoria to full wakefulness.

"Breakfast, dear?" asked Kendra. "We've had poached eggs, scrambled eggs, toasted muffins, orange juice, tomato juice, and porridge. We could not stump the elves this morning. What would you like?"

Trix stood waiting patiently while Astoria stared straight ahead, appearing to process the complex information dump Kendra had just provided.

"I would like…" Astoria began, then paused for a bit, "Porridge…tea, with honey…and lemon…and a toasted muffin."

Harry felt a distinct sense of relief that Astoria had made it to the end, since she had seemed stuck for a bit, right in the middle of her breakfast order.

Trix had Astoria's breakfast on the table in well under a minute. Astoria picked up her tea cup and held it under her nose, then drew in a long, deep breath. Something about the aroma of the tea, or the lemon, must have had a therapeutic effect on Astoria, because after three inhalations, and one sip of tea, her eyes sparkled and her face changed from dull-neutral to animated-glowing.

"Well, everyone but me has gotten up for a bright and early start on Sunday's myriad delights, I see," Astoria pronounced, reaching for her porridge bowl. "What is the main attraction for today?"

"That depends," Daphne said. "Harry and I had something in mind for you and Draco, if he'll be coming to call."

"Good question," Astoria said. "We hadn't made any plans, even as far as 'coming to call' so your guess is as good as mine. What time is it?"

"Almost nine," Harry and Daphne said together.

"He has until nine," Astoria said. "After that, WE don't have any joint plans. What did you think you wanted to do?"

"We've been working…" Harry said.

"Harry has a cottage…" said Daphne, on top of Harry.

There ensued some exchanges of "Go ahead," and "No, sorry, you go…" before the communications were sorted.

"We thought we'd take you to see The Mill," Harry said, finally. "Draco has been there, but you haven't seen it yet. We've been working on it for several months. It's a nice place for a picnic, and with the better weather it ought to be a fun outing for a Sunday."

"Fine," Astoria said. "If Draco gets here, he can go, otherwise…"

An owl flew in the open door from the patio and perched on the back of an unoccupied chair, then stuck out the leg with the little message canister attached. Astoria removed the little capsule and looked around the table for something left over that an owl would like. No one had ordered bacon, ham, sausage, or a steak to go with their eggs this morning, it appeared.

"Come on," Daphne said to the owl, and draped a doubled-up napkin over her arm. The owl hooted cheerily and hopped on board with Daphne, presumably to the site of the jerky supply.

"So, what is this Mill?" Astoria asked, as she fiddled with the message cannister.

"It's an old gristmill," Harry said, "but it hasn't been used as a mill for a long time. I inherited some real estate from my parents, and it's part of that. Someone converted it from a mill to a little cottage. Daphne and I have been trying to get it in shape for summer. We're almost there."

"Says he'll be here shortly," Astoria read, having gotten the slip of parchment out of the capsule. "He's usually pretty prompt, so…"

Astoria tied into her porridge, picked up her teacup and saucer and headed toward the stairs.

"Would you like to go check out our work?" Harry asked Fabio and Kendra. "We could take some sandwiches and a carafe of tea. Have a little picnic lunch at The Mill?"

"Sure," Fabio said, "if you'd like to go?"

"I'm in, of course," Kendra said.

It took the better part of an hour to get the sandwiches and tea packed in a hamper, and the entire party collected and assembled outside the wards, but shortly thereafter everyone was standing on the flat top of the little knob, looking down the lane toward The Mill.

"The Mill," Harry said, extending his arm.

"You two HAVE been working," Draco said. "I know I saw it in poor light before, but still. What all have you done? That's a new addition, isn't it?"

"The Baths," Daphne said. "Fabio Greengrass, Architect."

"Like Roman," Harry added. "Only with more decadence."

"Greater decadence, by an order of magnitude," Daphne said in support.

They'd arrived at the bench and millstone, and Harry suggested they pause for a moment, and see if they were going to be greeted. Everyone had a seat and waited. It wasn't long before a few tiny points of light rose up from among the wildflowers that hugged the ground in the area.

"Hello, Harry," said a voice from somewhere near the tiny lights. "Hello, Daphne, hello, Kendra, hello Fabio, hello Draco. Hello Astoria. Have you come to visit The Mill?"

"We have, and to visit the fairies, of course," Harry said. "How are the fairies?"

The lights, which numbered several hundred by this point, coalesced into their ball, and the humming rose above subaudible as they did whatever it was they did when they collected themselves in one place.

"The fairies are as they always are, Harry," said the voice from the ball of light.

"We are very glad to hear that," Harry said. "I think we'd like to visit The Mill, now."

"Of course, Harry. The Mill is ready."

Harry looked at Fabio. "Ready?" he mouthed.

"Don't know," Fabio said, softly, and looked at Kendra.

"Let's find out," Kendra said.

"Mother, these are fairies?" Astoria asked, sidling up to Kendra. "How do they know me?"

"Lily and I brought Harry and Daphne to meet the fairies when they were babies," Kendra explained. "When you came on the scene, I thought it would be extremely unfair for the fairies to know Daphne, and not you, so your father, Daphne and I brought you over and introduced you. I'm not sure, but I think the fairies sense something more essential than our physical appearance. What they see never changes, whether you're a baby or quite elderly."

Astoria looked at the fairies circling Daphne's head.

"Daphne…what?" she managed.

"Look up," Daphne said, and Astoria tilted her head back a little and saw the fairies making a crown around her head, too.

"Nice," she said.

The party reached the front door. Daphne looked at the bench where she had been sitting with Harry when he got down on his knee and proposed. Harry was right beside her, so she leaned a little and just brushed his cheek with her lips. Harry reached out for Daphne's waist and pulled her into a brief hug.

The door opened easily, the hinges silent. The main room was clean, the floor tiles polished, and no dust or cobwebs were showing anywhere. It was as if Winky had just left.

"This is the main room. Kitchen, dining, sitting, and the main fireplace all together," Harry said.

"The Baths are that way," Daphne said. "If anyone wants to look. Or needs one."

"I'd like to take a look," Kendra said. "Fabio, take me on a tour of your creation."

She slipped her hand under Fabio's arm and they crossed the room to the new addition.

"Bedroom," said Daphne, pushing the door open. Everyone walked in and looked around.

They'd saved the old bed frame, which had been made from very solid wood, and fit the room perfectly. A new mattress and bedding had been easy enough to acquire. The dresser, however, was another matter, but some looking and a little help from Seamus and Dean had turned up a commodious item that looked at home in the bedroom.

"Let's go upstairs," Harry suggested. He led the way up to the second floor, and opened the double door under the gable with a wave of his wand.

"My understanding is there would once have been some means here to bring grain in, and the miller would send it down a kind of funnel to the millstones for grinding," Harry said. "Everything has been removed now. We presume that millstone outside was once used here, but who knows? Anyway, that's why we've got a cottage, and not a water-powered mill."

"Draco," said Astoria, "Does Malfoy Manor have a mill? Or a cottage? Or a little retreat of any kind?"

"Not that I know of," Draco said. "I ran around pretty much everywhere when I was a youngster, and I don't remember anything."

"Well," Astoria continued, "I think that is something you might want to consider, as a future project. If I may make a suggestion, it might be a real enhancement to the property."

"But Astoria, you don't have any experience with something like this," Daphne said. "Why don't we walk around and see the outside, then it will be time for lunch, and by that time, you'll have an idea what it would be like to spend three or four days, or a week, in these conditions. It's a good deal different than what you're used to at Greengrass Manor."

Harry wasn't sure what Daphne's projected end-state was, but he knew she was setting something up, that she'd likely come back to later. He followed Daphne to the front door. Fabio and Kendra came back to the main room from The Baths.

"Aren't those something?" Harry asked Kendra.

"I'll say," Kendra replied. "I might be ready to move right in."

"We've cleared everything with the fairies in advance," Harry said. "They assure us everything around here is happy with us and what we've done. Most of it was cleaning and doing some necessary maintenance. I think it's Daphne. They like the way she looks wearing their crown."

"Where next?" Fabio asked as they all gathered in the dooryard.

"Let's walk up stream a little way," Harry said. "I wanted to ask you about a foot bridge. I think there is a spot up here that would work."

The field trip went on until everyone came to consensus it was time for lunch. The sun was directly overhead, so all agreed they'd prefer to eat inside.

"To answer your question, Astoria, that is The Mill," Daphne said.

"Incredible," Draco said. "I wouldn't have guessed this was under the building we saw before. It is perfect. So simple. I've become quite fond of simplicity."

"Well," Harry began.

"We've been thinking," Daphne added.

"It ought to get some use," Harry finished.

"So, if you want, Harry has offered to let you stay here for your honeymoon," Daphne said, "if you're interested. Of course, if you want Switzerland or Nice, or someplace else…"

"We'll understand," Harry finished.

"And you've got plenty of time to decide, so don't think you have to answer right now," Daphne added, as a codicil.

"That is very generous, Harry," Kendra said.

"Indeed," said Fabio.

"It is. We'll talk it over, and let you know," Draco said.

"If you do want to use it, when you're done, just collect your thoughts and let us know what we ought to do next," Daphne said. "We've gotten this far putting the basics in place, but the dilemma is how to make it more livable, while keeping the retreat feel."

Harry looked at Daphne. He wondered if she would ever cease to surprise him. She was so invested in The Mill project, and preservation of the atmosphere of country simplicity. He wondered if she might be getting her fill of the combination of London professional and manor house grand dame in training, if she was looking forward to having the option of taking a full weekend for herself, and a book or two, away from the demands of the other places. It certainly sounded attractive enough to Harry, however much he loved his job, the ministry, and living in London.

The time went by quickly, and sooner than he'd have liked, Harry began packing up the things they needed to take back to Greengrass Manor. Aside from his proposal of marriage, and numerous work dates when he and Daphne had patched stucco or re-set roof tiles, the lunch had been their first event at The Mill, and he was sorry it was coming to an end. Harry asked Fabio if he'd like to see the second floor, as he and Kendra had been touring The Baths when the rest of the party was looking around.

"Don't quite know what to do with this," Harry said. "It wouldn't divide up easily into rooms, and we'd lose all this free space. If, in the future, we'd like more than one house guest out here, there would have to be some walls so the guests could have some privacy."

"You could use some magic," Fabio said. "Did you ever use the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts? That's how it comes and goes. You can conjure rooms inside of here, then de-conjure them when you don't have guests. There are some spells for that, and you can try different ones until you find what's best for you. I may have a book at home. Remind me to check when we get back."

"I'll pass that along to Daphne," Harry said. "She said she wanted to do some sketches, but events have spun out of control, and she hasn't gotten to it. She's very proud of being your apprentice, even if she did become a healer and not a magical architect."

Loud voices came up the stairs as Harry closed the double doors. Draco met him at the foot of the stairs.

"You proposed to Daphne!" Draco declared.

"I know," said Harry. "What's more, she said 'Yes.'"

"Congratulations, then!" Draco went on, "When are you getting married?"

Harry looked at Daphne who shrugged.

"To Be Determined," Harry said. "Sometime after you and Astoria."

"Got everyone? Got everything?" Daphne asked.

Harry closed the door to The Mill and the party set off for the apparation point.

"Thank you, fairies, for the beautiful crowns," Daphne said as they passed the old millstone.

The fairies were confused by such sentiments because of their peculiar relationship with time, but they were used to humans expressing themselves that way, and buzzed contentedly in appreciation.


	25. Chapter 25

Wheels Within Wheels—Part Two

Kendra and Lily

Chapter Twenty-Five

Old, Old Magic

The return to Greengrass Manor was uneventful. Everyone gathered in the gazebo for big tumblers of cold mineral water and lemon, talking about next steps at The Mill, Harry's still-conjectural construction of a new Potter Manor on the site of the old one, and Draco's enthusiasm for a simple retreat house on the Malfoy estate.

One by one, people drifted away, until Harry, Daphne and Kendra remained.

"I need to pull out a calendar and start looking for some dates for our projects," Harry said. "I have a little notebook at the flat with all the big ministry meetings and the holidays blocked out. Do you want to put it together with yours and see what emerges?"

"Sure," Daphne said. "I'll be here a little longer, but you can sit here with us or go on ahead."

"If you don't mind…" Harry semi-questioned.

"Of course not, I know the way, now that you fixed that problem with time," replied Daphne.

"That wasn't me, but okay," Harry said. "Mrs. Greengrass."

"Thank-you for the wonderful outing and picnic, Harry. You and Daphne have turned The Mill into a little paradise," Kendra said.

Harry nodded thanks, then turned to Daphne, bent, and kissed her cheek.

The faint sound of the front door closing got to the gazebo, and Kendra spoke.

"What a nice young man," she said, giving Daphne a smile.

"I know," Daphne said. "How did I get so lucky?"

She looked Kendra in the eye.

"I did get really, really lucky, didn't I Mother?" she asked.

"Daphne, you're asking if Lily and I took away your choice in the matter, I think," Kendra said. "Your free will. Your right to choose your own mate."

"Yes, I am," Daphne said. "Harry and I both wonder. A lot of coincidences had to line up, after years of us having no contact, for us to be where we are. He had completely forgotten seeing me around Hogwarts for six years. Then we have that mysterious meeting with Gringott's, and Ivy Fletcher took a contract to confund the Head Auror. Now we're here. My dog is even crazy about him. We are not accusing you and Lily of anything, certainly not anything unseemly. Harry even said he doesn't care if you two did manipulate us, he's happy to be with me. I'm certainly happy to be with him."

Daphne extended her left hand, punctuating her affirmation of happiness.

"I accepted this, and I meant it," she said. "I admit it does nag, a little, because, if we're the subject of some spellwork, spells can be broken, or lose their potency. I treat people who fall in and out of love, without forewarning, for all kinds of reasons, and no reason at all. It happens, and neither of us would necessarily have any control over it. I just can't go through life wondering if my mother's spell is going to get stale and fade away, along with my love for my husband."

Daphne didn't look at Kendra, but out over the gardens, which were starting to show signs of life, now that longer, warmer days had arrived.

Kendra looked out with her. Then, she seemed to come to some decision, and she stood and held her hand out to Daphne.

"Let's walk," she said.

At the bottom of the hill, Kendra waved her wand, and cast a silent _revelio_ , and walked with Daphne across the boundary toward Fabio's enchanted lake. She continued to a wooden bench that was placed near where the pier left the shore and went on to the cabana. Kendra sat down on the bench, and Daphne followed her lead.

"Love has some mysterious properties. Among them is the ability to become stronger, just when we were thinking we had destroyed it," said Kendra.

"After our discussion in the library, a few weeks back, I decided to do a little work on _my_ marriage. I had never confided in your father about Lily and me. That's deception, and it was very, very wrong of me. I took your father to the most beautiful little cove in Cornwall, lots of witches and wizards, still very much dedicated to fishing and farming, although with a little help from magic.

"Your father wanted to know how I'd found it. You've probably guessed, it was Lily who found it, and we'd managed to visit it together, several times, before we got involved with our future husbands. Then, I told Fabio I'd done him a monstrous injustice, that I had kept secrets from him, wrongfully. I insisted he listen until he had heard all of it, then I offered to get out of his life and never bother him, or any of you, ever again, if that was what he wanted."

"Mother!" Daphne nearly shouted. "Without talking to Astoria and me? You offered to leave us all?"

"Yes, I did," Kendra continued. "I gave it a lot of thought. I hadn't been able to sleep, so I had plenty of time to think it through. It was the only thing I could offer Fabio that seemed to match the enormity of what I'd done. It's one thing to have a little history, and to exercise discretion, but this was something quite different.

"Anyway, your father…is…unique," Kendra said. "We were sitting on a bench, looking out at the water, and the wind was cold! He took my hands in his, and he told me he'd known all about Lily and me, pretty much as long as Lily and I had known, and that he knew she had set a standard, and he had lived his life trying to match it, and love me and treat me as well as Lily had, because that was what I deserved, and he wanted to keep right on doing that. Then he said he understood something had to have brought me to the point of telling him all that I had, and if _I_ was in need of anything, or if I felt I had to leave _him_ , he would support me completely, and he swore on his honor that no one would ever say a negative word about me in his presence and live out the day."

Kendra's eyes were running streams by this point, and Daphne put her arms around her mother.

"The answer to your question is no," Kendra said. "The runes were very favorable, but, as I told you, the closer the subject is to the caster, the less specific the results. We did a little light spellwork, healthy baby charms, that sort of thing. We wanted you to find one another, certainly, but the two of you had to decide your own courses. We were of one mind on that. That's why the Agreement is so loose. You're free right now to pay the fees and abrogate it.

"The day James and Fabio signed the Agreement at Gringott's, we all went back to Godric's Hollow, and the boys went off to the pub and left us at the house. That was nice."

Kendra didn't show any sign of wanting to elaborate. Daphne didn't think it was any of her business, truth be told.

"And the next time we were alone together, Lily had been washed and wrapped in a shroud by the witches of Godric's Hollow, and was laid out in a casket in the vestibule of St. Jerome's Church. You and I sat up with her all night, just a few candles burning for a little light. Her face was so peaceful. Bathilda Bagshot knew all the witches for miles around who practiced the old ways, and they had brought bunches of every herb a witch might need, and they practically filled Lily's casket. Rosemary, lavender, verbena, camomile…

"Next morning, there was a short service, and the cover was put on the casket…"

Kendra broke down completely. She turned and buried her face in Daphne's shoulder, sobbing convulsively.

"Oh, Mummie, Mummie, Mummie, you gave it all up for us, didn't you?" Daphne said, rocking Kendra and pulling her even closer. "We owe you everything, we're so lucky to be your daughters."

When Kendra was able to stop crying, she extracted herself from Daphne's embrace, waved her wand across her face, and cast a silent freshening charm.

"It's best if I become Mother again," she said, and laid her wand against her own forearm while she grasped Daphne's, trapping the wand between them.

"Daphne, we are witches. We are Greengrass witches, and we live our lives to protect and preserve our line. Do you understand what I am saying? Our line, Daphne, is _why_ we live."

Daphne didn't understand.

"Look, Daphne," said Kendra, the steel suddenly back in her voice.

A plant runner was moving across the sand toward Kendra. She stood up and stepped out of her sandal. Daphne thought the plant looked like a venomous tentacula, but it was moving much too fast to be a shoot from a normal plant. Kendra lifted her bare, unprotected foot and brought it down on the runner. Daphne looked, and saw the shoot transfigure into an adder, that twisted around and struck and struck Kendra's bare foot, over and over.

"Mother!" Daphne shouted, horrified, as she watched the adder attack her mother, then stiffen, and become rigid, then turn to charcoal and disintegrate, spreading black grains on the golden sand around Kendra's foot. A puff of wind came and swept the sand clean of the remains of the adder. Daphne had no idea what she was watching. It wasn't Dark, but it was some kind of magic, old, powerful magic, that she had not seen in all her years of study and practice.

"Look at me, Daphne," said Kendra. Daphne looked up at her mother. Kendra's head was directly in front of the sun, whose corona shone out from what was, effectively, a Kendra eclipse. The cumulus clouds appeared to deflate, lose their shapes and descend, cloaking Kendra in a long, white tunic, and the lapis sky fell down as a mantle over Kendra's head and shoulders.

"Look," she said, pulling Daphne toward her, until Daphne's head contacted Kendra just under her rib cage.

"Look, never be afraid. I'm here holding you. I'm always here, wherever you go."

Daphne was aware her eyelids were closed, but she saw a room before her, as clearly as she had seen the gazebo just minutes before. Two girls, who appeared to be teenagers, were kneeling on a blanket on the floor, a cauldron between them. Both were wearing what appeared to be cotton shifts. Daphne looked down and saw that she was wearing a cotton shift as well. From the looks of the junk and gadgetry scattered about, Daphne thought her best guess was they were in the Room of Requirement.

"Here she is," said the girl facing her, who was pulling small leaves off a dried twig and putting them in the cauldron. The other girl turned to look at Daphne.

"Daphne," said the young Kendra, the same Kendra Daphne knew from the photo in the leather holder. "You're just in time. You know Lily."

"Ninety-nine, one hundred!" said Lily, a little triumphantly. Daphne thought Lily looked like the Lily in the photo, as well. Daphne remembered that she _did_ know Lily, although she could not remember why, or where they had first met. Of course, she had always known Lily.

"Yes. Hullo, Lily," Daphne said.

A door closed and Daphne saw movement in the shadows. Walburga Black, the young, dewy Walburga from the portrait Daphne had sent to Hogwarts, stepped out into the light. Daphne nearly curtsied, from habit, but something inside said to greet Walburga.

"Hullo, Walburga," said Daphne. "What are we doing?"

Walburga ignored her, instead pointing her wand at the cauldron and twirling it in a stirring motion.

"One hundred?" she said, looking at Lily.

"One hundred," Lily confirmed, looking at Kendra, who nodded in agreement.

Walburga finally acknowledged Daphne.

"You are going to add to your knowledge, Daphne," said Walburga. "We're here to prepare the potion and make you feel safe and secure. Now we get out of these."

The young Walburga pulled her shift up over her head, as did Lily and Kendra, and tossed it on the floor behind her.

Daphne was the only one still in her shift, but she pulled it up and tossed it behind her, as the others had done. She must have looked like she was harboring an unasked question.

"Because half the point of being a witch is to get naked and drink potions," Lily said, sounding oddly authoritative, and certainly joyous. "Come on in a little closer."

Walburga produced a crystal goblet and tilted the cauldron over the mouth. She filled the goblet about halfway and handed it to Daphne. Kendra and Lily reached behind Daphne, and Daphne could feel their clasped hands against the small of her back.

"Daphne," said Walburga, "You have been chosen to be one of the holders of some rather arcane knowledge. Witches have been passing it along for quite some time. The way it is passed is through experience. You will be incorporating some wisdom into your being, your body, your personality. Do you understand? You've been chosen because the witches who decide these things have observed you, and they find you suitable. That's all. If you accept, you will see your line, and understand. It isn't useful to ask questions. The experience makes the questions irrelevant. You get nothing out of it, beyond getting to carry the knowledge around with you and apply it.

"Now is the time to drink up, if you're willing to be a vessel," Walburga finished.

Daphne thought of that moment again and again, for decades afterwards, and could never find an explanation for why she drained the goblet, or for what happened next.

Daphne took the goblet down from her lips. She remained vaguely aware that her face was still in contact with Kendra's abdomen, back on the strand. Behind her closed eyelids she had a vision of looking _through_ Kendra, through Grandmother Davis, and a long succession of women, who, she somehow knew, were her maternal ancestors stretching back, back, back through centuries, then millennia, through early humans, proto-humans, then further back to the sea, and the earliest life that divided male from female, then on beyond that to the single cells that first populated the planet, then to the lifeless sea, then the chaos of planetary formation, then the great ball of glowing gas, then moments before hydrogen existed, to the tiny point, too small to describe, bursting with purpose, in one magical Instant, to birth everything that was, or ever would be. The engine of creation that started everything had culminated with Daphne, and her potential, with Harry, to carry on the line, her line, which started in that tiny point at the beginning of everything and stretched on and on and on, from mother to daughter, mother to daughter, through Kendra and Daphne, toward infinity.

Daphne opened her eyes. She was sitting next to Kendra, on the wooden bench, near the pier that went out to the cabana on Greengrass Lake.

"What…?" Daphne started.

"Hmm?" Kendra asked. She sat leaning against the back of the wooden bench, looking out at Fabio's lake, legs crossed, flipping her sandal against the sole of her foot. Daphne was startled to see Kendra's foot looking normal, with no signs of puncture wounds or any other trauma.

"I think I've been hallucinating," Daphne said, shaking her head, some stress apparent in her voice.

"Do you?" Kendra asked. "Maybe you nodded off and had a little dream. Anyway, that's your area of expertise, isn't it? Did you learn anything from it?"

Kendra looked at Daphne's face, closely, waiting.

"I did," Daphne said. "I saw everything that went before, back to the very beginning, and I saw myself, and, possibly, my line going forward, potentially long after I'm gone, if I protect it. Like you protected me."

"Did you see Her?" asked Kendra.

"She said not to be afraid, that She is with me, wherever I go," Daphne answered.

"What do you think that means?" asked Kendra.

"It's our line She's talking about. We all go back to Her, and She goes ahead into the future, in us, until we all come to the end," replied Daphne. "THE End, of all of it."

"Very good, dear," Kendra said, obviously pleased. "Hold that thought, as you live your life. Now, don't you need to get to Harry's and get your calendars sorted?"

Kendra stood up and waited just inside the boundary for Daphne. They stepped across, and Kendra waved her wand. The lake, the beach, and the palm trees disappeared, replaced by the green. Kendra and Daphne walked up the path to the manor, in silence, Kendra smiling, Daphne puzzling over her recent experience, and trying to fit it into her understanding of everything she had learned as a healer.

Back in the library, Daphne picked up Raffles, who had been saying he wanted to go to Harry's flat anyway, leaned over and kissed Kendra on the cheek, and took a good pinch of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle.

"Oh, Daphne, when you're doing your planning, you and Harry might want to save the seventh and the seventeenth of July, for now," Kendra said.

"Why? What's going on in July?" Daphne asked, a bit confused.

"I don't know, dear," Kendra said. "The runes just keep coming back to the seventh and the seventeenth as the most propitious days for several months. You know how the runes can be."

 _ **Author's Note: This concludes Part Two of Wheels Within Wheels. Thank you to everyone who read to the end. The first chapters of Part Three are in draft and being readied for publication. I hope everyone has enjoyed reading about Harry and Daphne, and take this opportunity to thank everyone who took the time to comment, positively or negatively. All reader correspondence is welcome.**_

 ** _The author makes no claim to anything in this story. All of it belongs to JK Rowling._**


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